


Stuck In Second Gear

by RydiaPryde



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Minor Squinoa, Post-Game, Romance, Seifer Has a Fancy Bathtub, Seifistis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29103747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RydiaPryde/pseuds/RydiaPryde
Summary: Feeling like everyone is moving on but her, Quistis feels stuck.   A chance encounter with Seifer leaves her flustered, and plants the seeds of a budding, unexpected romance.   And Zell, because we all need a little more Zell.  Set seven years post-game.  Seifistis.
Relationships: Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy/Quistis Trepe
Comments: 21
Kudos: 16





	1. The One With the Dirty Girl in Seifer’s Bathtub

**Stuck in Second Gear**

**Chapter 1**

**The One With the Dirty Girl in Seifer’s Bathtub**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Seven years. It had been seven damn years since she’d returned to being a full-time instructor. Yet, here she was, in the pouring rain, cold, damp, cranky, back aching from her crouched position, stuck staring through some binoculars at a Garden target, doing a job they normally gave to cadets. Because no one else was available. And Quistis Trepe didn’t know how to say no to Garden. Or Xu.

Upon that realization, Quistis felt a twinge of bitterness. It had been seven years and she was still doing exactly what she would have done at eighteen. Good little Quistis. Always taking orders. Always walking the straight and narrow. Always having to mother-hen everyone. Never the fun one. Never the desirable one; well, to anyone other than the freakishly infatuated Trepies, who had disbanded a few years ago. Everyone else had moved on with their lives.

Zell had quit Garden to become a professional boxer. He was currently undefeated. Not only that, but he had won silver in the T-board event at the most recent Extreme Galbadia Games. It afforded him the ability to make sure his Ma was set up for life. Ma Dincht no longer had to worry that one day a SeeD was going to show up at her door and tell her that her precious little boy was gone. Zell still volunteered to teach a grappling class at Garden once a semester, and he would kindly stop by Quistis’ office to catch up, but the gym he trained in was located in Deling City. So, this was where he lived now. Gloomy, rainy, Deling City.

Selphie had left Balamb to help rebuild a now-thriving Trabia Garden. She was its current Headmistress. Quistis was _fairly_ certain that she and Irvine were an item again, but it was hard to keep track. Their “are they-aren’t they” act got really, _really_ old and was taking a toll on the whole group. 

Then there were Squall and Rinoa. Frankly, Quistis cranky mood had started a few months ago when the couple announced their engagement. She wasn’t _jealous._ Well, okay, she _was_ jealous, but not because Rinoa “got” Squall. Quistis was jealous because she was alone. The engagement was an insulting reminder of the fact that she was alone, and everyone else was changing and growing, except for her.

She was always the odd woman out. 

She had been made an instructor, when all of her peers were merely cadets. Quistis’ precocious achievements had robbed her of the chance to be a normal teenager. Now, at the age of twenty-five, she was still behaving like a stunted, anemic adolescent. 

And she was sick of it. Sick of Garden. Sick of SeeD. Sick of being alone. Zell had his boxing and his Ma, Selphie had Trabia, Irvine had chasing Selphie, Squall and Rinoa had each other. Heck, even Xu had a girlfriend. It wasn’t like Quistis hadn’t _tried_ dating. She _had._ A lot. She’d had enough one-night-stands to demonstrate that. She just _sucked_ at it. Add that to yet another thing she failed at. Conversation on dates came to a screeching halt with her. “Normal” people had nothing in common with her; she didn’t know how to relate to them. The SeeDs she tried dating never called her for a second date. Apparently she was “intimidating”. Quistis would have rolled her eyes if they weren’t presently glued to the target in her sight from the binoculars.

The only guy she had slept with more than once was Nida. In what could only be described as an ill-fated, poorly-chosen, _entirely_ -unsatisfying two-month disaster. 

She was absolutely sick of all of it.

“You look like crap.”

Xu’s monotone voice cut her out of her thoughts.

Quistis removed the binoculars and handed them over to Xu. “Gee, thanks. You’ll look the same after you’ve been for eight hours straight.”

Xu shrugged. “Sorry. I know this wasn’t how you planned on spending a Tuesday afternoon. Not my first choice either.”

“Whatever.” It slipped out before Quistis could stop it. 

Xu adjusted the binocular settings carefully. ““Well, you’re officially relieved from duty. I’ll cover until your replacement gets here. You seem cranky. There’s a nice coffee shop half a kilometer from here, go get some coffee and a snack before catching the train back. Maybe you’ll feel better.”

“Maybe.” 

Quistis arched her back in an attempt to work out the ache that was settling from the base of her neck, down her spine, and radiating all the way to her hip. With a deep sigh, she curled her coat tighter around her body and trudged her way to the coffee shop.

A delivery van hurtled past her on the road, and as if in slow motion, muddy rain-water was splashed out from the road and onto Quistis’ pants, her jacket, and even a few dots splattered across on her face. Talk about adding insult to injury.

Ugh. Just…ugh.

True to what Xu had said, a café was a short walk away. “Deling City Perk” had a neon sign bearing its name and a generic coffee cup logo. It looked inviting inside, from what she could see from the glass front. Maybe Xu was right. Maybe a cup of steaming coffee would help cheer her up a bit. Or a hot toddy, more like.

Deling City Perk turned out to be more of a bistro than just a coffee shop. Comfortable chairs and couches were nestled invitingly in front of a roaring fire. Bar tables with stools lined the walls. A display case was filled with various pastries and a chalk board mentioned the daily food specials, soup de jour, and the small list of alcoholic drinks that were served. 

Not wanting to sully the furniture with her mud-soaked attire, Quistis chose to wait in the queue by the bar to order, instead of sitting and being waited on. It seemed like the service went either way in the place. A tall blonde man was in front of her, chatting up the barista. She could hear the barista’s tell-tale giggle and high-pitched up-talk.

Great. Just _great._ They were flirting. She was going to be here for ages, and all she wanted was a stupid coffee.

The barista was extremely pretty. Young. Full pouty lips, bright nearly violet eyes, high cheek-bones, naturally tan skin, long wavy hair that was bleached out and then faded into a pink ombre. No wonder the guy was flirting with her. And here Quistis couldn’t even carry a two-minute conversation with a man that didn’t involve her delegating orders.

She was about to give up and leave, when the man finally turned around and spoke.

“Well—You look like shit.”

His deep, husky voice shook her to her core. Quistis gasped at the audacious insult.

_“Excuse me?”_

She set her face in the best glare she could muster, and readied to tell off this asshole of a man who had not only made her wait for coffee so he could flirt, but also had the gall to tell a complete stranger—

She was met with a pair of green eyes. A particular pair, one she had always thought were unreasonably striking.

“Been a long time, Quistis.” 

Seifer Almasy waved a hand back towards the barista. “Ursula, another coffee please, on my tab, for _Instructor_ Trepe here.” Seifer studied Quistis’ shocked face carefully. “She takes it light and sweet…would be my guess. With vanilla.”

Dammit. He was right. Seifer always was good at reading people. It was why he had been so effective as the head of the Disciplinary Committee, and why he found it so easy to get underneath people’s skin. He knew exactly how to piss people off, and took _far_ too much pleasure in doing it.

“Seifer…” Quistis managed to squeak out. 

One look at him and she felt even lower than low. Especially in her current disheveled state. This day could _not_ get any worse.

He had grown even taller, his hair a little longer than before, though not flopping into his eyes. All it managed to do was emphasize his strong jaw line more. There was a five-o’clock shadow on his face. He was dressed in a smart brown wool pea-coat with a messenger bag slung across his shoulder, neatly pressed slacks, a tight button-down shirt and a loosened tie. Seifer had clearly not stopped working out since the last time she saw him. Quite the opposite: his shoulders were broad, his chest defined, and she could practically see his toned abs from underneath the shirt. No wonder the barista was flirting with him. He was a walking freaking specimen.

Then there was Quistis herself. Wet, and muddy, with dirt streaked across her forehead, mascara smudges under her eyes, and hair clinging at odd angles to her forehead, where it was loosened from the messy mop on the top of her head. Her cheeks were red, her nose runny. She _did_ look like shit. 

And now she felt like it too.

She vaguely registered the barista pressing a warm to-go cup in her hand as she continued to stare at the man in front of her. Ursula handed Seifer a re-usable to-go cup plastered with the logo for a sports team.

“Thanks again for helping me with that paper, Seifer,” the young barista said as she handed him his cup. “I ended up getting an ‘A’”. 

Seeing her up-close, Quistis realized she was likely only seventeen or eighteen.

Seifer grinned, not the cocky smirk, or flirty smirk that she remembered, but an honest-to-Hyne good-natured grin _._ Even so, he kept his eyes fixed on Quistis.

“No problem, Ursula. Make sure you tell your mom I said hi, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay!” She flashed a kind smile at Quistis before bouncing off back behind the bar.

Seifer took a casual sip of his coffee, eyeing Quistis skeptically. “So, today is obviously not a good day, given how you look, but… How’ve you been? It’s been what—Five years?”

Five years. Since he had been officially fully pardoned for his actions in the Sorceress War. Since Seifer had been given a real chance at life. Thanks to a long, valiant, generous effort by Rinoa. _That_ was the last time Quistis had seen him.

He was acting insanely cool, calm, and collected given the random circumstances of their encounter. As if they were merely old casual acquaintances running into each other. No history. Seifer barely seemed surprised to find her in Deling City. His bravado and confidence were making her feel even worse about herself. _She_ , at least, was certainly surprised to see _him_. To the point of rendering her nearly speechless.

She had always envied that about Seifer. His ability to make things seem so… _easy. Decisive._ A word that had always been written in his evaluations when he was a SeeD cadet.

Decisive to a fault. Even when it led him the wrong way.

Quistis finally managed to find her voice. “What are you _doing_ here?” 

“I live here. What are _you_ doing here?”

She remained purposefully silent.

Seifer’s familiar cocky smirk crossed his features “Ah. SeeD business then.” 

It was said with no bitterness or malice. Simply matter of fact. He didn’t pry further.

Quistis let herself be led by the elbow out the door of the café. It was still raining, but the rain was no longer torturing her. Seifer had opened up a large umbrella that covered them both.

“You should drink that coffee. Best in all of Galbadia.”

Quistis nodded mutely and took a sip, not knowing what to say. She also wasn’t sure why she was letting herself be dragged off to Hyne-knows-where with him.

Seifer started to talk, seemingly keep to create idle chat to fill the awkward silence.

“Ursula is a good kid. Met her last year when the firm I’m interning at took the case that killed her dad. Hit-and-run. Criminal case didn’t go through, so mom was trying to get something from a civil trial—”

“Firm? Trial?” Quistis interrupted.

“Oh, yeah. I’m in my third year of law school at Galbadia University. That’s why I live here.”

She realized they had stopped in front of an impressive apartment building. “What are you doing?”

Seifer nodded his head towards the top of the building. “This is my place. Figured you may want to clean off. You look like you’ve had a crappy day. I’ve got a nice bathroom. What do you say?”

“You’re…bringing me to your place so I can clean up?”

Seifer shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve got a _really_ nice bathroom. Take a bath. Take a load off.”

Was Seifer actually being thoughtful and _not_ sarcastic? What was his angle here? She must have been staring at him apprehensively, because he let out a deep sigh.

“No catch, _Instructor_. I’m just trying to be nice. Promise.”

Her eyebrow twitched at the use of her title. She knew he was saying it to irk her. But… a warm bath did sound extremely nice. More than nice. It sounded like the perfect way to make her feel less like crap. After all, she wasn’t afforded the luxury of a bathtub back at Garden.

So—she agreed.

The lobby of the apartment was small but inviting, with marble floors that squeaked under their wet shoes, and a fish tank along one wall. A doorman behind a desk nodded at Seifer, who nodded back. They rode the elevator to the twentieth floor in silence. Seifer guided her down the hall and into a tastefully decorated one-bedroom apartment.

Large windows flanked two entire walls, giving an impressive view of gloomy downtown Deling City. Seifer, it seemed, was remarkably clean and tidy. Everything had a place. Warm parquet floors and a plush white silk area rug. A sleek sofa sat in front of a flat screen television mounted on the wall. Underneath was a console housing a stereo and video game system. A modern glass coffee table was laid a set of coasters with cheeky old pin-up photos on them. There was a worn, extremely inviting leather armchair to the side. A galley kitchen with dark quartz countertops and bright white mission cabinets and a peninsula that faced on to the living room. In the large room there was a dark wooden dining table that could seat four, and there was even a decorative bowl on it, filled with apples. Across from the table there was a set of open Dolletian doors that revealed a small office, a desk stacked with papers, legal textbooks piled on the floor, a cup filled with multiple-colored highlighters and pens, and a computer monitor. It was the only messy part of the apartment.

Seifer motioned her down the hallway. They passed a bathroom, and Quistis began to protest. “Isn’t that—”

“Bath, right? Bathtub is in the master bathroom.” He led her through the door to his room, and she tried not to stare at his personal living space.

The bedroom was similar to the living room. Warm wood floors, a soft looking Centran rug in blues and grays. A gray marble fireplace with wood stacked neatly to the side. A simple modern bed with gray linens, and a tall wooden headboard. A book on one of the bedside tables. A large mirror over the fireplace.

But, the real show stopper was the bathroom.

Sleek white marble lined the floor and walls. The room held a double sink with beautiful platinum faucets, and a shower large enough for two people with multiple showerheads both overhead, and mounted on the walls. There was a door that led to a water closet. The real star, though, was the tub. Sitting on platinum clawfeet was the largest, deepest, most inviting bathtub Quistis had ever seen. A perfectly-formed dragonhead spigot arched from the wall to the middle of the tub. Stacked neatly next to it was a hamper of perfectly-folded white fluffy towels, and a basket with various bath salts.

“Wow…” was all Quistis managed to say.

“Told you I had a fancy bathroom,” he replied. “Help yourself.”

She was vaguely aware of the bathroom door shutting behind her.

After ensuring the door was locked, Quistis turned on the faucet and tossed in one of the salts she found in the basket. As the steaming water filled the bathtub, bubbles started to form, and the pleasant aroma of apricot filled the air. She stripped out of her muddy, wet clothes, and tried to avoid messing up the pristine white tiles.

Seifer’s voice came from outside the door. _“Hey, I can’t do much for your jacket, but there is a washer and dryer in there with a quick cycle if you want to wash your clothes.”_

Quistis found herself blushing, knowing she was completely naked with him merely meters away. “Th—thanks.”

She quickly tossed her things into the washer-dryer and set it to the quick cycle, and throwing in some detergent. The light blinked at her. Fifty-two minutes. She would be naked in Seifer’s apartment for fifty-two minutes.

Well, better make the most of it.

After shutting off the water so the bath wouldn’t overflow, Quistis quickly rinsed the grime from her body and hair in the shower, before gingerly settling into the large bathtub with a pleasurable hiss. There was nothing quite like a too-hot bath to ease an aching back, and a bruised ego.

As she sat in the sudsy water, a realization came over her. She really didn’t know Seifer at all, not any more. But did she even truly know him back then? Other than the fact that he was an arrogant ass, of course? It seemed that his teenage arrogance was certainly still there. And she was sure he could be an ass when he wanted. But apparently, he was now a guy who took baths. And did crosswords in them too, judging by the well-worn crossword book that sat on a tray designed to fit over the tub. He also wore reading glasses. And had a monogrammed navy-blue bathrobe. Somehow, that fact did not surprise her.

Seifer was apparently a person who let someone he hadn’t seen in five years into his personal space to take a bath. Like it happened regularly, or something. Just any old Tuesday afternoon. He hadn’t seemed remotely fazed by her presence, yet she was acting like a confused stray adolescent.

Quistis cleared her throat loudly. “Did you…choose this bathroom on purpose?”

She swore she heard a nervous chuckle from somewhere on the other side of the door, and Quistis was secretly relieved Seifer was still there, and that she wasn’t just yelling to herself. 

His answer came back, slightly muffled. _“Um… Well, actually, I had it put in. Custom. I own this place.”_

So many questions. How did he have the money? How long had he lived here? Why did he go to law school? Where would she even start?

“So… You wanted a place with a bathtub?” _Great, Quistis. Just great._

 _“I…like taking baths. They’re relaxing.”_ Seifer sounded almost embarrassed. Almost _._ But then he added, _“Plus, every place should have a shower big enough for two. Can get into a whole lot of fun and trouble in there. You guys are nuts for putting up with the SeeD dorms.”_

She could picture a shit-eating grin on his face, but chose to ignore the second half of his statement. 

“The bath is really nice.”

_“The building’s new, so I was able to create my own living space. I lucked out. Raijin was the contractor for the project, believe it or not. Otherwise, no way would I have been able to change the plans to add the office and bigger bathroom.”_

Okay. That made sense. She had heard rumors that Raijin and Fujin had started a successful contracting company. Raijin was the head contractor, and Fujin tended to the books and researched the jobs.

“That’s pretty lucky. Did you say you were going to law school?”

 _“Yeah.”_ Seifer fell silent for a moment. _“Quistis?”_

“What?”

_“So… D’you need me to sit by the door and make chit-chat the whole time?”_

She bristled, feeling suddenly redder than could be attributed to the heat from the bath. 

“No, Seifer, I do not. I’m perfectly capable of having a bath without being babysat.”

_“Glad to hear it. Relax in there, okay?”_

His footsteps faded away, and she ducked her face into the sudsy water in embarrassment. When she resurfaced, Quistis resolved to follow Seifer’s advice and relax in the tub.

And what a tub it was. She stretched out her legs, and closed her eyes.

The fifty-two minutes flew by. Quistis was surprised when the washer dinged its complete cycle. She had stayed in the bathtub the entire time. It was only just starting to get to the point where it wasn’t hot enough. She was fairly certain she had spent the first ten minutes of the bath catching up with Seifer.

She was shocked at how easily conversation flowed between them. Why had it never been this easy on the many dates she had been on? Was she only capable of holding a conversation with a man when there was a door in between them? It had flowed so easily _._ Was this what it was supposed to be like? After dressing and twisting her hair into a wet braid, she gave herself a quick glance in the mirror, determining that she looked acceptable.

Exiting the bathroom, she found Seifer lounged casually in an armchair in the corner of his bedroom, flipping through a magazine. He had shed his business casual attire and was wearing loose sweatpants and a tight t-shirt. _Very_ tight. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. Quistis found her cheeks were warm, and chalked it up to the fire. It _had_ to be the fire.

She opened her mouth to speak, but found the words wouldn’t come. The idea that he had been changing his clothes while she was naked in his bathtub just a stone’s throw away left her feeling extremely flustered. Like she was still a seventeen-year-old girl hoping her crush would dream about her.

Which was crazy. This was _Seifer._

“Feel better?” He asked, standing up and tossing the magazine on the chair before walking over to her.

Quistis put on her best ‘I’m-an-instructor’ face and kept her voice as business-like as possible. “Much. Your bathroom is very nice.”

Seifer studied her for a moment before frowning slightly. The tone of his voice dropped from friendly, to borderline condescending. 

“Guess you’re catching the train back to Balamb? Last one leaves in forty-five minutes.”

“Y-yes.” 

Quistis was a little confused by the change in his cadence as she made her way to the front door, pausing to slip on her boots. They’d had a great conversation before this, much to her surprise, so why was he suddenly so cold?

Opening the door for her, Seifer handed her her bag, effectively kicking her out. As she grabbed the bag from him, her fingers brushed up against his, and she swore he lingered for a brief moment.

“Thanks again, Seifer.”

He flashed her that cocky grin she remembered from years ago, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Anytime, Quistis. Anytime.”

The door shut behind her and Quistis lifted her hand to her chest, trying to control the pounding in her chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to the lovely **colobonema** who acted as my beta on this and helped me flush this idea out after writing a silly one-shot. Hope you all enjoy :-)


	2. The One Where Seifer Is Not Really an Asshole

**Stuck in Second Gear**

**Chapter 2**

**The One Where Seifer Is Not _Really_ an Asshole**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Something about Quistis Trepe had always managed to get underneath Seifer’s skin. It went as far back to their time in the orphanage. Maybe it was the fact that she acted like she was five years younger than Cid Kramer instead of their age. Maybe it was her lack of ability to have any fun, ever. The girl needed to let loose, she was wound up so tightly, it stressed _him_ out.

Maybe it was her arrogance, her condescension. Just because she was an instructor didn’t mean she had to act like she was forty. If he was honest with himself, sometimes she reminded him a lot of himself. She bugged the hell out of him. And when people bugged Seifer, it really pissed him off. He didn’t like when other people had so much power over him that they could irritate him _this_ much. So, he went out of his way to bug her in return. Make her angry. In the best way he knew how: utter defiance of order.

As a teenager there were many times when he wanted to slam her against the back of a doorway and kiss her senseless. Just to make her stop being such a _robot_. Act like a seventeen-year-old. It’s what he had found so attractive about Rinoa in their brief summer together. She was so spirited, care-free, and passionate. Seifer knew that fiery passion was inside Quistis somewhere, if she would only just let it out. 

And Seifer Almasy loved a challenge.

The woman seriously needed to get laid. That was certain. He had come to that conclusion years ago. 

Seeing Quistis again reminded Seifer of all of those things. She had changed, yet she was entirely the same. He knew what people saw in her. No one could deny she was attractive. And brains were sexy as hell in a woman. He had always felt that way. Seifer always got off on going toe-to-toe with her. Raijin once told him he needed a woman who would put him in his place.

Quistis Trepe could certainly do that.

Quistis had seemed genuinely shocked at Seifer’s offer of a bath. Well, maybe she should have been. The Seifer of years ago wouldn’t have cared or acted chivalrous. But, she had just looked so pathetic and sad. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other for a long time, but they grew up together. He would think anyone with the same history would act the same way. He would have done the same for the messenger girl. _Probably._

 _Maybe._ If she was really, really, _really_ desperate. Though he never would have bothered taking time to talk to her. And he wouldn’t have let her use his personal bathroom, she could use the shower in the guest bathroom.

Seifer had actually thought he and Quistis had a pleasant conversation for a while, and maybe, just _maybe,_ Quistis had learned to mellow out a little. Then, she got all prissy and haughty after she came out of the bathroom, and it was back to being seventeen again. And he was back to being just as irritated by her again.

He hadn’t missed the way her eyes looked him over. Maybe that’s what bugged him the most. Seifer _knew_ he looked damn good. Confidence had never been a weakness for him. And he knew that Quistis knew. He didn’t miss the look in her eyes hidden behind the pride. And maybe… just maybe it went beyond that. He’d gone out of the way to be nice to her, and then she’d acted all aloof on the way out.

Groaning, Seifer flopped back on the soft pillows of his bed. He needed a distraction. The voluptuous red-head from his torts class would do. She was down for literally _anything._ She would be a good distraction indeed.

* * *

Seifer grumbled as he shrugged his jeans back on, sliding them over his boxer-briefs. He could hear the water running in his guest bathroom and hoped she’d be quick about it. He had places to be.

He glanced in the direction of his master bathroom and frowned slightly. He never let any of his conquests use his personal bathroom. Not even the frequent flyers, such as the one that was currently cleaning up in his guest shower.

Yet he had let Quistis into his personal sanctuary. _Why?_

He knew why, and it was eating him away inside. 

It was the exact same reason that his bed companion, while getting a thorough ravishing herself, just wasn’t doing it for him. It was why he had to flip her over and close his eyes, picture blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes, and a very different voice screaming his name.

He felt a _little_ bad about it. He really wasn’t an asshole. At least… not an irredeemable one. Not like when he was younger. If he was a real asshole, he would have just kicked his conquests out. They kept coming back for more, so he must have been doing _something_ right. He just wasn’t really interested in any of them enough to settle down. Or bother taking them on real dates, for that matter.

Shrugging a t-shirt over his head, Seifer sat back down on his bed and groaned, burying his face in his hands. He had never had to fantasize about another woman in bed before. He felt… gross. Irritated. Defensive. 

He felt like a jerk. And he really wasn’t _that_ much of a jerk.

This was all her fault.

“Hey, Seif?”

Ginger, a rather stunning redhead with curves in all the right places, stood in the doorway of his bedroom, hair damp and a bag slung across her shoulder.

Looking up from his hands, Seifer plastered his trademark cocky grin on his face. “You headed out?”

Ginger smiled kindly at him and crossed the threshold to lean down and kiss him on the cheek. “Yeah. Thanks for… you know.”

Seifer did grin genuinely at that, and slowly stood from the bed to stand in front of her.

She looked down at the floor with uncharacteristic hesitation. “So… who is she?”

“Huh?”

The redhead smirked, looking up at Seifer with a knowing look. “Seif, I’ve known you for almost three years. Who is she?”

Seifer shook his shoulders, gently placing a hand to the small of her back and guiding her to the door. “It’s… she’s… there’s no one.”

They made their way to the door and she leaned over to pull on her boots. “That her?” Ginger nodded towards the kitchen, to the lone postcard that was attached to the fridge with a magnet.

The ‘Save The Date’ card.

Seifer made a face. “Rinoa? Hell, no. That ain’t her.” The inadvertent admission did not escape either occupant of the apartment.

“Don’t get me wrong. I owe Rinoa… everything. _Literally._ I owe her my life. She’s the only reason I’m going to that wedding. Her fiancé is a grade-A douche. He needs to go eat a bag of dicks.”

Ginger raised an eyebrow as she finished lacing her shoes. “You _sure_ that’s not her? You sure have some beef with the hottie she’s marrying. You even drew a speech bubble above his picture that says ‘I’m a giant turd’.”

“Hottie? Squall is _not_ a hottie. You _wound_ me. Trust me. It’s not her. I just really hate that guy.”

Ginger stood and leaned forward to give Seifer a hug. “Well…whoever she is. She’s one lucky girl. Go get her, Seif.”

“No hard feelings?”

A warm laugh escaped Ginger. “Hard feelings? No way. Jealous? Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Seifer couldn’t help but smile at that. “See you Saturday at the café for study group?”

* * *

“So, I ran into Seifer in Deling City last week.” 

Rinoa’s eyes shot up from the wedding magazine she was reading to stare at her companion. “ _Really._ He looks good, doesn’t he?”

Quistis tried to hide her blush as she put a sticky note on one of the pages of _Galbadia Bride_ in front of her. “No. I mean, yes. But, no.”

Rinoa grinned slightly. “I mean, I think he looks _good._ ”

“I’m _right here._ You know I can hear you.” Squall’s voice barked from the desk where he was attempting to finish up some SeeD reports.

Rinoa waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Ignore him. So, what happened?”

Quistis chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Nothing. He mentioned he was in law school. It was brief, and then he left.”

Rinoa hmmed, but didn’t say anything else.

A pit coiled in the bottom of Quistis’ stomach. She wasn’t sure why she was lying. All she knew was that the thought of mentioning taking a bath in Seifer’s ridiculously elaborate bathroom felt extremely embarrassing, and somehow weirdly intimate. Like it was this special thing between just the two of them. 

She also had been thinking about that bathtub all week. And trying desperately not to picture the person who usually occupied the space. His youthful arrogance had morphed into an adult confidence that was infuriatingly attractive. The simple act of his hand brushing against hers had left her heart hammering harder than anything she had done with a male in the past.

He _did_ look good. Rinoa was right. 

Quistis had so many questions about Seifer. The money was a big one. How he got into law school was another. She also knew that Rinoa likely knew some of the answers. The damn girl somehow knew everything. Rinoa knew things even before they appeared on the gossip blog Selphie had kept in their youth, the _Trabia Tattle-tale_. But Quistis had to tread lightly, and not seem too eager to tip off any suspicion. If she seemed overly curious, Rinoa would catch on that her meeting with Seifer was much more than ‘just a quick moment’.

“So… he mentioned law school. How did that happen?” Quistis finally asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Squall grumbled something incoherent from behind his mountain of paperwork.

Rinoa brightened, clearly eager to share the information. “Well, believe it or not, after getting completely pardoned, Seifer got really interested in the law, and decided he wanted to pay-it-forward. Help defend the defenseless and all. I guess the whole wanting to be a knight thing never quite left him. So, after he finished undergrad he took a year off, and then he applied to law school.”

Quistis had not even known that Seifer had been taking university classes. But, she supposed he had to have been. Maybe that’s what he had been doing while he was awaiting his fate. Undergraduate university was heavily subsidized for citizens of Galbadia, assuming you could pass the exams to get in.

Rinoa continued. “Galbadia University was super interested in him. Liked the whole ‘reformed bad boy now wanting to do good’. So, they gave him a scholarship as long as they could use his story promotionally. Then after his first semester, he got an internship at a firm and they pay for the rest of his tuition. He’s really _really_ good at law.”

Knowing that Seifer had done all that, still managed to hit the gym, apparently, and was extremely successful in his field made Quistis feel all the more like garbage. She must have seemed so pathetic in his eyes. She certainly looked the part. Seifer was living his life, and she was still living in a dorm with a shared bathroom and shower in Garden, where she had taught the same classes for seven years. Not even a promotion from Cid.

Her mission in Deling City had been the first time she had done anything outside of just helping to run Garden in… well, _years._

Quistis still had burning questions. Rinoa’s intel still didn’t explain how Seifer afforded his apartment. The story just kept getting more interesting. Quistis tapped her lip thoughtfully. “How do you know all this?”

Another grumble came from behind Squall’s paperwork, interspersed with some choice language.

“Ignore him.” Rinoa said again with a coy smile, tossing a magazine towards Quistis with a few dog-eared pages. “We have lunch every other month when I go to Deling City to see Caraway.”

Quistis blinked in surprise. She had no idea Rinoa and Seifer were in contact. Seifer hadn’t mentioned anything to her, and Rinoa had never brought it up. Though, it made sense that they remained somewhat close, considering she was the one who lobbied so heavily for his pardon.

Rinoa, seeming to sense Quistis’ confusion, glanced down at her wrists, idly rubbing the bracelets that adorned them. The deal made after the Second Sorceress War dictated that she always wear Odine Bangles. 

“It’s… therapeutic. He’s the only other person who knows… what it’s like…”

 _To be controlled by a Sorceress_ , Quistis thought. That was part of the reason Rinoa had helped him with his pardon. Because Rinoa knew exactly what it felt like to do evil under the control of magic. Because, if Seifer was guilty, then so was she.

* * *

The “Deling Dive” was Seifer’s go-to spot. Cheap beer, good grub, neon advertisements, a non-sticky floor, surprisingly clean bathrooms, and enough televisions to display whatever sporting events the patron desired. After years of having beer spilled on him, and trashed girls slosh all over him while attempting to sing along with classic rock, he had instilled a rule that he would never frequent a bar that served drinks from plastic cups. So, he found the Deling Dive. It had a strict ‘you break one glass, you get kicked out’ rule that kept the floors relatively clean, and the clientele behaved themselves.

Plus they had a wide range of brews on tap. Including some rarer Esthari imports.

Seifer wove his way through the crowd, knowing there would be a spot for him parked at the bar. Sure enough, a waving hand caught his attention, and he slid into the seat next to a spiky-haired, tattooed blonde.

“Race is about to start, dude! You’re late.” Zell motioned to the bartender, Malcolm, who produced a microbrew ale in front of Seifer. _GalbadiALE_ , his favorite. 

Seifer grunted his thanks and took a sip of his pint. 

“Sorry, had company. Chill out, Chicken-wuss.”

Zell rolled his eyes, and fixed his attention onto the television in front of them that was broadcasting the formula race that was taking place in downtown Deling City.

“You had a good fight the other night.” Seifer was eager to change the subject.

“Thanks, man. Broke a freaking rib though. Hurts like crazy.”

These meetings had been taking place for a few months now. It all started when Seifer had gone to the bar to watch a chocobo race. The bar had been completely packed, with no seats available. Except for the stool next to one former-SeeD, current boxing champ, and hyperactive brawler.

After Seifer reluctantly took the seat, following a brief inner debate about whether he ought to just leave and miss the race, Seifer and Zell had found mutual understanding over the fact that they both enjoyed sports. So, for every major sporting event (of which, to them, there were about two a week), they would “accidentally” watch it at the same bar together.

They weren’t _friends_ or anything. Definitely not. They just happened to like watching the same sports.

Zell had mellowed significantly since leaving Garden. He was still animated, but by challenging his energy into boxing and T-board, he was far more calm in his every day interactions. He was, though Seifer would _never_ admit this out loud, tolerable. And he knew a _lot_ about sports. Also, Zell gave him front row tickets to boxing matches. 

That was the only reason he showed up to these “accidental” meet-ups.

The library girl was jealous of all the attention Zell got as a result of his success. He had a huge fanbase. But Zell, being Zell, didn’t even notice the many girls that threw themselves his way. He would just jovially sign an autograph, and go back to whatever he was doing. These days, Zell got even more female attention than Seifer did. But, that female attention had led to the library girl breaking up with Zell, which frankly ended up being the best thing for him. It allowed him to cut ties fully with Garden at last. His career soared as a result, since he no longer had to split his time between Balamb and Deling.

One such fangirl, a rather beautiful brunette, was currently shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Zell, pretending to be interested in the race. Zell was relaying technical facts to her about the way the cars were maintained, how many gil they cost, while she batted her eyelashes at him. Seifer smirked slightly at the interaction. Zell was completely clueless.

The girl had shimmied her way halfway onto Zell’s lap, asking him innocuous questions about the race as she tried to subtly feel him up. Zell’s leg was shaking, (as it always was), and the girl was being bounced around, giving most of the rest of the bar a rather enjoyable show, as all the right parts were jiggling. Zell just kept talking about his favorite driver, eyes glued to the screen, occasionally taking a sip of beer.

Then, the cable went out.

“Come on!” Zell stood suddenly, slamming his beer on the coaster, the girl on his lap being unceremoniously dropped to the ground.

He had the wherewithal to be sheepish at that, and offered a hand to pull her up with a quick apology, before turning his attention to Malcolm, the bartender.

“Dude! What happened? The race is done in like thirty minutes!”

“I mean, you could come to my place…” the brunette was trying to tell Zell, but he paid it no mind.

Malcolm shrugged. “Cable is out, Zell. Don’t know when it will come back on.”

“Shit.” Grabbing his beer, Zell finished it in one chug before turning to Seifer. “What are we gonna do, man?”

Seifer crossed his arms and considered this carefully. 

Zell had never been to his place. His oasis. But, Seifer did have cable and a rather impressive television.

“I don’t have cable. Cut the cord, dude.” Zell was bouncing on the tips of his toes in agitation.

Sighing deeply, Seifer came to a decision. One he really hoped he would later not regret. “We can go to my place. If you buy me a six-pack, and promise not to spill on anything. And _sit still_.”

“Really? That’s great, man! Let’s go!” Tossing gil on the table, Zell all but ran for the door, leaving the stunned brunette behind.

* * *

“Hey, this place is really nice, dude! Where’d you get this lamp?”

“Don’t touch anything, Chicken-wuss. Just sit down and find the race, the remote is on the coffee table,” Seifer barked, tossing the beer in his fridge.

“Is that your room?”

“You’re not allowed in there.” Seifer shoved Zell back into his seat and handed him a beer. “And use a damn coaster, that’s why they’re there. Didn’t your Ma raise you better than that?”

“Geez, dude.” Zell leaned back on the comfortable couch and raised his feet up to place them on the coffee table. After one look at Seifer, he lowered them back to the ground with a grumble.

The next hour went by without incident. Zell managed to not spill, was given permission to use the guest bathroom, and only pissed off Seifer twice. Which was in and of itself a record. At the end, Zell was given permission to _possibly_ come over for another sporting event, assuming he behaved himself.

* * *

Fifteen kilometers. That was the length of the run it took to finally get Quistis out of the forefront of Seifer’s mind. More specifically, the mental image of her in his bathtub. It had distracted him all through his Conflict Resolutions class, to the point where he had blanked when his professor had asked him a question.

Seifer _never_ blanked. If he was going to do something, he was going to be the best. Period. It was why his whole rivalry with Squall started. Law school was no different.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere in writing his paper on the philosophy of legal ethics, he decided to run until he was no longer thinking about her. It took fifteen damn kilometers before he was finally able to begin forming a thesis statement for his paper. 

Exercise always helped, and there was nowhere in Deling City for him to swing Hyperion around. Technically, he wasn’t even supposed to _have_ Hyperion. A condition of his pardon. Raijin and Fujin had taken a huge risk in obtaining it for him.

Despite the fact that he was already dripping in sweat, Seifer chose to take the stairs, two at a time, up to the twentieth floor where his apartment was. After exiting the stairwell, he stripped off his soaked shirt and wiped the sweat from his brow with it. Rounding the corner to his apartment, he stopped dead when he saw the figure lingering at his doorway.

“Quistis?” 

She certainly looked better than the last time he had seen her. _Much_ better. Gone were her arm-warmers and pink ensemble. She was wearing a short black skirt with a flowing, almost see-through cream blouse tucked in, and a black bra just visible underneath. Black combat boots adorned her feet, and her hair was not put up in the clip she normally wore. It flowed down her back in effortless waves. Her glasses were tucked into the top of her blouse, tugging it down slightly, giving the smallest hint of cleavage.

Was she… Had she dressed like that for him? To make up for how pitiful she looked last time? Seifer felt his mouth go dry and he unconsciously ran a hand along his abdomen as he desperately tried not to appreciate just how short the skirt was.

Quistis must have noticed the movement, and Seifer didn’t fail to notice her eyes roam the expanse of his bare torso. A pretty blush sprinkled her face.

She recovered quickly. “I was in town. Wedding business. I know this may seem strange, but…”

Seifer crossed his arms, effectively showing off his mass. “Lemme guess. You wanted to use my bathtub again.”

“Well, actually, yes.”

Seifer studied her carefully as he considered how next to proceed. The idea of her in his bathtub again seemed _very_ appealing. Maybe he could crack that shell of hers just a little, too. As he watched her, Seifer took into account all her little tells. The way her eyes were glued to the floor, the way she kept shifting her weight back and forth. She was guarded, but also… hiding something.

“That’s the _only_ reason you’re here?”

Quistis pointedly looked at the wall and cleared her throat. “I don’t have a bath in Garden, and my hotel doesn’t have one either.” 

Seifer noticed the way she shifted uncomfortably as she said it.

_I’ve been thinking about you too, Quistis…_

“Okay then.” 

He grabbed the keys from the pocket of his running shorts and reached over to the lock. Quistis tried to move out of the way, but he stood close to her, pressing his chest to her back as he leaned over her to unlock his door, being sure she was very aware of how muscular he was. 

“S’cuse me…” he rumbled against her ear, and grinned when he heard her breath hitch. 

Taking far more time than was needed to open the door, Seifer took a moment to enjoy how flustered she was just by his near presence. Maybe this day was shaping up after all.

Seifer was good at payback. And payback was a bitch. Time to get back at her for unknowingly distracting him all week.

The door opened, and he motioned for her to enter. “All yours, Quistis. All yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **colobonema** for being my beta on this. Thanks for the chapter title ideas ;)


	3. The One Where Payback is a Bitch

**Stuck In Second Gear**

**Chapter 3**

**The One Where Payback is a Bitch**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Her discovery of Seifer’s success had been bugging Quistis all week. To the point where she was distracted enough in a lecture to actually forget if she was speaking about magic or physical combat. Flustered, she just ended the class early, much to the confusion of her students.

No wonder Cid had never promoted her. She’d a brief encounter with an old… whatever he was… and she couldn’t fully focus for the rest of the week.

Maybe that was the crux of the problem. Seifer had _made_ something of himself. Quite something. And he looked incredible. He always had been a cocky, handsome asshole. But his bravado took away from just how good looking he was. Being written off as a jerk, meant that he had never bothered to flirt or invest others’ interest in him.

Seeing that bravado morph into effortless confidence… he probably had a black book filled with numbers. He had put on muscle, too. He was always a larger guy, but solid. She was sure that under his clothes, he probably looked like he had been etched from stone.

Add that to the fact that here she was, working at Garden, in _literally_ the exact position she was in when they were eighteen. And he, had achieved success at school, success at life, success at housing. He, the fuck-up, the rebel, the person who was the cause for so much pain and destruction…

She had done _everything_ right. Perfect grades. Perfect attendance. Perfect work ethic. Perfectly pressed uniform. Sweet Shiva, her _hair_ was perfect every day.

And it was all fucked up, thanks to Seifer’s failed field exam. And now, years later, all she had to show for her perfection, was getting back the job she was thrust into as a teenager, without a single damn promotion in seven damn years.

And the asshole who was the nail in the coffin for her career the first go around? He was sitting in some giant bathtub at the top of a condo in Deling City, with the world apparently at his feet. A successful career just a semester away, an impressive internship, and some secret source of money.

To make matters worse, in addition to her lackluster career, she had absolutely looked terrible when she saw him. 

Quistis Trepe was not going to let that go unpunished. She was not going to feel “less than” because of some arrogant jerk. How dare he do something nice for her and make her feel like garbage. That wasn’t how that was supposed to work!

How _dare_ he.

She would show him what Quistis Trepe _really_ was. She was not pathetic, or someone to be pitied. She was… well, she wasn’t sure what she was anymore. But, she was _not_ someone to be looked down on, and she was going to show him that.

She made the resolution and had committed to it before she really had time to think it through. Quistis had _never_ been impulsive. Not once. Not even at the celebratory ball after they defeated Ultimecia, and Selphie had snuck in a flask. Quistis reminded her she was breaking Garden rules and went to go talk to Cid. At the time, she was just delighted to have her old job back.

Looking back at it, having her “old” job back was a slap in the face. She had just gone through Time Compression and saved the world. And her reward was the job they entrusted with a teenage prodigy? Was she really not any better now than she was back then? Or even worse… was she actually exactly the same? Had she really not changed… or grown… at all?

Seifer was one of the only people who never just _deferred_ to her. Everyone else treated her like the lone grown up in the room. He had always treated her like she was exactly the same as him. Was that arrogance? Condescension? Or… something else?

It piqued her interest, that was for sure.

Part of her wanted to be treated normally. She ached for that. It was why it had been so easy to become friends with Rinoa after everything. Rinoa always just treated Quistis as a girl of the same age. 

The opportunity for payback against Seifer came from Rinoa, of all people. Some extremely specialized, Dolletian hand-made lace was being delivered to Deling City. Someone had to be there to sign for the package, and Caraway was out. Rinoa had promised Squall that she would go to Esthar with him to visit Laguna. Frankly, Rinoa had to, or else Squall would either refuse to go, or would sit in silence, stewing the whole time. The only reason Laguna and Squall had struck any type of relationship (which consisted of aloof coolness on Squall’s part, though he was begrudgingly warming up, and clueless happiness of Laguna’s), was thanks to Rinoa.

But Squall, being Squall, told her that if he was going to have a relationship with his estranged father, then so was she.

This resulted in Fury Caraway, having been referred to as “Caraway” by his daughter, eventually becoming “Daddy” in about a year. And now, dear old dad was sparing no expense on his little princess’s wedding. Ironically, Rinoa did not want that type of wedding at all, but Laguna and Caraway had insisted, given how high profile Rinoa and Squall were. Which is exactly _why_ Rinoa didn’t want it. So, Rinoa had essentially given up, and handed planning over to the two dads and Selphie. With the exception of her dress, and her bridesmaid’s dresses (Quistis had already secretly cancelled four orders Selphie had placed ‘just in case’ for dresses, sparing Rinoa the stress).

So, when the hemming and hawing came, of who could _possibly_ go to the Caraway mansion and sign for this lace, Quistis jumped at the opportunity. An excuse to go to Deling City. Zell _probably_ could have done it himself, but he had been placed on a five month ban from the Caraway mansion after breaking an antique Centran vase the last time he was there.

Rinoa sent her off with continuous apologies and thanks, but secretly Quistis was thrilled.

She was determined for Seifer to see that she was not anything like the pitiful sight he had stumbled upon in the coffee shop.

Feeling a newfound confidence, Quistis sported an outfit she was more likely to see Selphie or Rinoa wearing. Quistis tended to dress like a forty-five-year-old mother of three, not a twenty-five-year-old smoke show.

The black bra under the white flowy shirt was about as daring as she would ever be, and the skirt was more suited to Selphie’s daring lengths. She looked good. She _felt_ good.

She couldn’t make it too obvious though.

Seifer’s apartment wasn’t that far away from the Caraway mansion. About a fifteen-minute ride of the number 8 bus, or a forty-minute walk. Quistis chose to take the bus, not wanting to risk any more mud or rain incidents.

Having worked undercover before, it was easy enough for her to waltz in through the doors, past the doorman, like she belonged there. Taking the elevator up, her heart started to hammer in her chest. What was she doing? This was absolutely nuts. Why did she want to prove herself to _Seifer_? She wished she had never asked Rinoa about him in the first place.

A ding told her she had made it to his floor, and she headed for his apartment. Pausing, her hand hesitated at the knocker. This was silly. This was petty. This was… _needy._ She should have never done this. May as well head back to the—

“Quistis?”

Quistis gulped upon hearing that voice. He sounded a little strained, panting slightly. She couldn’t help it when a mental image of hearing her name, breathless, under _very_ different circumstances flickered in her subconscious.

Her mouth went dry as she looked up at him, and she cursed inwardly. Shirtless, sweat dripping off his brow, chest heaving with uneven breaths… She was supposed to have the upper hand here!

Gods, he was perfect. His chest and abdomen were just as chiseled as she had secretly imagined, and she couldn’t help but watch a bead of sweat trickle down his neck, down that broad expanse of his chest. Her eyes fell to where he was absently stroking his abdomen. He clearly noticed how she looked.

_Got you…_

She successfully hid a smirk, and before she knew it, he was uncomfortably close to her, unlocking his door. She could feel heat radiating off his chest, and he smelled of heady sweat, and salt. This wasn’t helping the hammering in her chest or the blush on her cheeks, and Quistis unconsciously licked her lips, wondering briefly what that salt would taste like on his skin.

Which was crazy. Because, this was Seifer. As she kept reminding herself.

Before she could contemplate that further, she was once again in his apartment, and she was cold. The wonderful heat from his body was gone and he was heading down the hall to his bedroom.

“You coming?”

_Get it together, Quistis. You’re here to prove to him you aren’t pathetic. Make **him** uncomfortable this time._

But… she wondered who she was really trying to prove anything to. Seifer? Or herself?

She feigned confidence when what she really felt was light headed. Is this what she had missed out on as a teenager? What was this feeling coiling in her stomach? It was just that he was handsome, surely it was that.

But then again, so was Nida… and she had never felt this not-unpleasant fluttering inside, this heat, with _him._

Shaking any untoward thoughts from her head, Quistis turned her nose in the air and marched down the hallway behind him, after quickly unzipping her boots and setting them by the door. She knew he had noticed her. She saw the smallest predatory gleam in his eye when he reached for his keys. She looked good, she knew it, and he knew it.

Turning the corner to the bathroom, she could hear the faucet running.

“You wanted a bath, right?” Seifer was hunched over the tub, his muscular back flexing, as he tested the water with his hands. 

“Well, you have a nice bathtub. And, you did offer last time.”

Seifer glanced over his shoulder and grinned at her. “That I did…”

The grin disarmed her on the spot.

They remained in silence, Seifer throwing in a bath salt that created bubbles and made the entire bathroom smell like juniper berries. His eyes kept glancing in her direction, a look that was anything but innocent as they darted appreciatively across her body.

“That should do it.” He motioned to the bathtub. 

It looked as inviting as she remembered. And Seifer had graciously filled it almost to the top for her. 

What on earth was she doing? This was her master plan? Showing up, becoming flustered, and then claiming she wanted to use his bathtub again? Then again, last time that was how they got talking. And she had so many questions that were left unanswered, grating on her last nerve. It was curiosity, nothing more.

Or so she kept telling herself.

At the very least, she had proven _something._

Quistis waited expectantly for him to leave the bathroom, but instead he just smirked at her. Like he was a cat that just stole the cream and got away with it.

Keeping his gaze firmly on hers, he slowly began to pull down his running shorts.

“What are you doing?” Quistis squeaked, but refused to turn away. He was not going to embarrass her this time. Instead, she tried to sound offended.

He was moving so slowly, it was nearly painful. She couldn’t help but glance between his eyes, and the way he was staring at her, and the way his muscles rippled underneath his skin as he languidly pulled off the shorts and tossed them into the hamper nearby, leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs.

_Oh my…_

What had she gotten herself into?

Quistis purposefully kept her eyes trained away from that thin black material under his waist. She refused to look there. No matter how much she wanted to. Instead, she kept his gaze, resolutely. Proudly.

“I’m filthy. Just ran fifteen k. Need a shower. And I’m not using the guest bathroom. Don’t worry, I won’t see anything, Instructor.” He grabbed his robe from the door, hanging it on a hook outside the separate grand shower area, where indeed, neither of them would see anything. She heard the shower turned on, and the various nozzles guzzle out, steam rapidly invading the rest of the bathroom. That was accompanied by a pair of boxers, tossed onto the floor with a thunk from behind the marble where he was hidden.

Which meant…

Quistis gulped. 

At some point it became clear to her that they were playing a game. She wasn’t entirely sure who started the game, but there was no way she was going to let him win. She stripped as quickly as she could, after ensuring there was no way he could somehow see her with a mirror, and folded her clothing carefully on top of the stack of towels before sinking into Seifer’s glorious bathtub.

“So…” His voice drifted from the shower. “Wedding business, huh? What’s Rinoa got you running around for?”

Quistis sank down further into the tub, so just her head was above the bubbles. “Lace. Some fancy imported lace. I had to get the delivery at the Caraway mansion.”

Seifer snorted something that sounded like he was rolling his eyes at the same time.

“She—Rinoa—she told me about your lunches.” Quistis ventured carefully

A deep knowing chuckle echoed through the bathroom that made Quistis shiver despite the hot bath. “Oh… you told her about seeing me, huh?”

“Wh—what? I mean, yes. I mentioned running into you. That’s it.”

Seifer’s head appeared from the shower and he glanced over at Quistis with an annoying shit-eating grin on his face. “Really? _That’s it_? You didn’t mention anything else?”

Quistis shook her head.

“Interesting…” He disappeared back into the shower. “Couldn’t get me out of you head, huh, Trepe?”

Damn him. Just as much of an arrogant ass as ever. Quistis needed to go on the offensive. “Honestly, I was wondering how you afford this place. Wanted to make sure you were above board after all Rinoa has done for you. Just protecting my friend.”

“Please. You really think I’m gonna believe that’s the _only_ reason you’re here? You’re worse at lying than Rinoa. If you want to know how I have money, all you have to do is ask. I’ll happily tell you.”

Damn him, damn him, _damn him_. Now Quistis was stuck. She really did want to know, but she also didn’t want to give in. This game of cat and mouse. And she no longer knew who was whom. She huffed loudly. “ _Fine._ How do you pay for this apartment?”

The shower suddenly stopped and Seifer’s hand reached out to grab the robe from the hook. A second later, he was standing before her, regarding her carefully, sporting a comfortable-looking navy blue fluffy robe. Instead of leaving the bathroom, he pulled up a stool from under the vanity and sat on it, near her.

Strangely, she didn’t feel intimidated, or uncomfortable. He wasn’t leering at her, or trying to sneak any peeks. It seemed like he was actually going to sit and have an honest conversation with her.

Seifer speared his fingers through his damp hair. “I bartend. It’s no big secret.”

The way he said it, there was obviously more to the story.

“But… the down payment? Monthly cost, it must be—”

Seifer interrupted her. “I can’t tell you about the down payment. That’s… I just can’t, okay. But, I _will_ tell you about the bartending.”

“What’s so interesting about being a bartender?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?” Seifer barked, obviously a little on edge.

“Sorry. Yes, I do.”

“I have a shift tonight. You can come. But, you have to promise not to say anything to Rinoa… or anyone else.”

“Um… okay?”

“You’re staying the night in Deling, right? Just come to ‘Richard’s’, downtown, tonight. _Late._ ”

“Okay.” Quistis agreed, curious as to why Seifer was being so evasive.

Seifer grabbed the crossword book that sat next the bathtub and gestured to it with his pen. “You do crosswords? I’m stuck on a Sunday one. Wanna help?”

The next hour went by in surprisingly enjoyable companionship. By the time the bubbles had thinned to a translucent foam, Seifer had the good grace to turn his back, and continue their crossword conversation without facing her. Quistis found herself relaxing, and forgot how strange the scene was: she, Instructor Trepe, wallowing in a tub with Seifer Almasy in a bathrobe next to her, solving fiendishly cryptic crossword clues together.

* * *

‘Richard’s’ turned out to be extremely hard to find. It was tucked down several flights of stairs of an unmarked building. The entrance appeared to be a very small old-timey bar, with only three stools. Dark, brick walls and low lighting. Music played softly in the background. There was a man absently drying martini glasses behind the bar wearing suspenders and a top hat, but no Seifer.

At first, Quistis thought she was in the wrong place.

“Can I help you?” The man eyed her up and down suspiciously.

“I’m… is this Richard’s?”

The man grinned a little and topped his hat to her. “You must be Quistis. Seifer failed to mention how pretty you’d be.”

Quistis couldn’t help but blush at the comment, but also was secretly pleased that Seifer had told a coworker she was coming. He had faith she would show up.

He _wanted_ her to show up.

The man rounded the bar and offered a hand to Quistis, which she reluctantly took. “I’m Charles. Own the place. Seifer came here because we have the best Galbadian Slingers in town. His mix was even better than mine, so I hired him on the spot. I don’t think this bar was quite what he was expecting…”

“Expecting?”

Charles chuckled. “You’ll see.” He pushed against the back wall of the small bar, revealing it to be a hidden entrance.

As the door opened, Quistis was immediately assailed with a loud rhythmic drumming sound of electronic music. Lights were flashing in every color, and she had to blink rapidly for her eyes to adjust.

She was in a large, almost warehouse-like room, with ceilings at least three stories high. There were some catwalks with railings where people were lounging, and tall, bottom-lit platforms where some of the most gorgeous men Quistis had ever seen in her life were dancing up a storm.

In fact…

The entire bar was filled with extremely attractive men dancing. A lot of them shirtless. And almost no women.

Quistis tried not to stare at whatever hunk-heaven she had stumbled upon when it dawned on her. Places like this establishment had to remain underground for a long time under old Galbadian law. So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that it still operated as almost a speak-easy, even if the laws had changed.

She let herself be guided to the huge bar in the back, where Seifer was tending bar. His shirt was off and he was laughing with a bunch of the guys waiting for their drinks, readying to take a shot with them.

He caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, and winked before downing the shot. Quistis absently sat at an empty stool at the corner of the bar, unsure of what exactly she was doing.

The men taking the shot with Seifer noticed the wink, and all whipped their heads to stare at her simultaneously. She had never felt so self-conscious in her entire life. A second later, they all started assailing Seifer with questions and gossiped amongst themselves. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was accompanied with a lot of jovial laughter and gesturing. And while Quistis couldn’t be absolutely sure, she thought that Seifer was blushing, just slightly.

Seifer saluted the group of guys before making his way towards her, a drink in hand. It was quite pretty, the alcohol clear, but the ice-cube was large and had a purplish color to it. An edible flower sat on the top. 

“Here.” He pressed it into her hand. “This is my specialty drink, butterfly pea flower infused ice cube, cactaur syrup, and vodka. Let loose. Dance a little. Have fun.”

And just like that he was gone, back behind the bar, talking to another group as he shook a cocktail maker, dramatically throwing bottles of alcohol in the air before pouring them into the mixer, flicking a lemon upwards and slicing it as it fell, the perfect sliver falling into the drink gracefully.

He must make incredible tips. Seifer always knew how to put on a show. And the man _loved_ attention. It was the perfect job for him.

“Such eye-candy, right?” A voice came from her left. “Are you his girlfriend?”

“What? No!” Quistis found that she was a little too quick and forceful in that denial, perhaps betraying something she wasn’t willing to admit just yet. She turned to find one of the guys that Seifer was taking shots with standing next to her. An attractive man with dark hair and dark piercing eyes.

“Mmm… sure you aren’t. Wanna dance?” He offered a hand and she readily accepted, surprising herself.

Quistis spent the next three hours dancing with various partners, her drink never empty, Charles running her a new one from Seifer whenever she was in need. Gin with a dried candied mango and fresh blueberries, whiskey with mandarin juice and vanilla syrup, bourbon infused with banana… Each time the drink was different, and each time it was complex, thoughtful, and frankly, a work of art to look at. And each one, she liked. How did he know what she would like?

She couldn’t remember the last time she had this much _fun._ No one was eying her up as Garden’s failed prodigy. No one was acting like a creepy Trepie. No one was sitting there waiting for her to fail. There was no pressure. Just good-natured fun. She would catch Seifer’s gaze every once in a while, and he would salute with a glass to her and smile. He seemed to genuinely enjoy working here, and she didn’t blame him.

Finally, when she was tired, she made her way to the bar to settle her tab. There was a lull at that moment, which she was thankful for. 

“How much do I owe you?” She shouted over the music, leaning over the bar so Seifer could hear her. She was damp with sweat, her hair now wavy and tousled, and her shirt had become even more un-buttoned in the heat. Quistis never let herself be seen like this in public. She wasn’t… perfect.

Seifer shook his head and grinned, his eyes traveling up and down her form, obviously appreciating what he saw. Reflected in his eyes, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. 

“On me. It was worth it to see you dance. You looked good out there.”

Quistis found herself flush, heat shooting down deep in her belly. And it was due to far more than the alcohol. Was he flirting with her? Regaining her composure, she grabbed a twenty gil note from her purse and put it on the bar. The least she could do was tip.

Seifer made no move to grab the money, but kept his eyes trained on hers. “You headed back to Caraway mansion?”

She nodded. “I’m exhausted.”

He nodded his head to Charles, who nodded back. “Here, let me get you in a cab.”

“You don’t have—”

“Quistis, its two in the morning. You don’t live here. I’m getting you in a cab.”

He guided her by the small of her back to the entrance, back through the secret area in front. There were a few cat-calls and whistles as they exited, all in good-natured teasing.

Finally, they stood outside, Quistis’ ears ringing from the aftermath of the loud music. Her skin was flushed red, and her feet had a pleasant ache from dancing. She found herself smiling widely at Seifer. She hadn’t smiled like that in… she didn’t know how long.

“Thank you.” She said honestly. “That was really fun.”

“My pleasure.” Seifer stuffed his hands in the pockets of his extremely tight jeans, and leaned up on his tip-toes. All it managed to do was emphasize the perfect v-shape of flesh leading to the noticeable bulge near his zipper, causing Quistis to bite the bottom of her lip. 

“Like I said, worth it to see Quistis Trepe finally let go and dance. Grinding on three guys at the same time, no less. What would Garden say?”

“Seifer!” Quitsis slapped a hand to his chest playfully and was immediately reminded of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her hand lingered, and she was secretly pleased when he flexed slightly against her, taking a sharp inhale of breath at her touch. His skin, like hers was also damp with a sheen of sweat. She felt herself get warmer, despite the cold air. Quistis kept her hand on him, but let it slowly drop down his chest along his abdomen, almost reverently tracing the contours with a feather-light touch. Down to that inviting dip of flesh. Gods, his body…

It had to be the alcohol… she would never be this… forward.

Seifer was perfectly still, keeping his eyes glued to hers as he held his breath. “Quistis—”

His voice was gravelly, and the tone caused a shiver to run down Quistis’ spine. Was it because of her, or just that he had been yelling in the bar? All she knew was that she wanted to hear him say her name that way again.

_Honk!_

The arrival of Quistis’ cab broke the moment, and she retreated her hand from his skin as if she had been burned. 

Seifer swore under his breath, before leaning down to open the car door for her. He barked something at the cabbie in a tone that betrayed his annoyance at the poor timing. 

Quistis hesitated for a moment before almost regretfully sinking into the backseat of the cab.

Instead of shutting the door, Seifer leaned down, his face close. Was he--?

Her eyes fluttered closed on instinct, but instead of a kiss, she felt hot breath on her ear, and could smell his musk close. His hand was on her hip, rubbing ever so gently in a way that made her want to feel it against her bare skin. The feel of his mouth near her ear was making her squirm. How could such a small touch feel so incredibly intimate? So erotic? 

A small whimper escaped her lips, and she could feel Seifer’s grin against her.

“Good night, Quistis,” he whispered to her. “Come use my bathtub anytime you’re in town.”

And just like that, he was gone. The cab door shut with a loud bang. The cabbie drove off and Quistis whirled her head around to try and catch a glimpse of Seifer through the rear window. He was nowhere to be seen. Quistis placed a hand to her chest, hoping to slow her breathing. Should she have… kissed him?

Absently, she placed her hand against her hip, where his hand had practically burned a hole into her skin. 

A crumpled-up twenty gil note was there, with a phone number scrawled onto it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **coloboneba** for beta-ing this. You are the best :)


	4. The One Where Quistis is Frustrated

**Stuck in Second Gear**

**Chapter 4**

**The One Where Quistis is _Frustrated_**

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_ **

_A hard body pressed her against the cool tiles of the large shower. Water jettied pleasantly against her skin from multiple nozzles._

_“Oh…gods…” Quistis moaned as his hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head back. His other hand was roaming along her side, up her stomach until it found a breast, pinching her nipple between his fingers._

_He kept slamming into her in a delirious pace. Quistis had never felt so good in her life, and the coil in her stomach was unwinding slowly, slowly, and she was so close to letting go, he was so hard and rough, and she was so deliciously achingly full…_

_“Don’t stop. Please, I’m so close…” Quistis whimpered, nearly begging for the sweet release she was craving._

_“Don’t worry, Quistis... I’ve got you.” A lust-laced gravelly voice was in her ear, hot breath causing a shiver to shoot down and—_

* * *

“Oh! _Seifer!”_ Quistis shot up in her bed with a loud gasp, perspiration on her brow and chest, heart racing. She could feel her legs shaking, and it almost felt like he was still inside her as she felt herself spasm. Had she--? 

“Sweet Shiva, what is wrong with me?” Quistis whispered to herself, before flopping back into her pillows with a groan. Glancing over at her nightstand, there was the twenty-gil note, no longer crumpled, but flattened out, his number penned neatly on it.

She hadn’t reached out to Seifer. It had been almost a week. She wasn’t even sure what she would say. All she knew is that their last interaction had left her… _restless._ She was snapping left and right at people, forgetting her ID badge in her dorm room…

She knew why. There had been a primal hunger inside her since Seifer left her in the cab back in Deling City. No man had ever made her feel so flustered before. Truth be told, it reminded her of all the reasons she’d had a secret crush on him years ago. She always felt so rattled around him. Whenever she felt like she had figured him out, he would surprise her and do something different. She wondered if that was on purpose, to keep her floundering. It certainly worked. Damn him.

The worst part was, she didn’t know what his end game was. Was he just messing around with her? Teasing her? Was he trying to be a friend? Was he just trying to sleep with her to add a notch on his bedpost? One of what was likely many, many notches. Seifer was annoyingly hard to read. But, she was fairly certain he was at least flirting with her. And giving her his number had to mean _something._

Now, the man had given her the most intense orgasm of her life in a _dream._

After that, there was no way she was going to be able to face him without some embarrassment. And the next time she _knew_ she would see him was at Squall and Rinoa’s wedding in few weeks.

That wouldn’t do at all. She had to get these feelings out of her system so she didn’t fall all over herself at the wedding where she was the maid-of-honor. If the wedding was the next time she saw him, she may as well be wearing a giant sign declaring she had a secret. Rinoa would sniff it out in no time. So would Selphie. 

And Seifer was bound to go out of his way to make her uncomfortable. He clearly got pleasure out of doing it. That just wouldn’t do. 

Coming to a decision, Quistis grabbed her phone off the charger before she could change her mind, and typed in a quick text message to the number on the gil note. She didn’t need to look at it to remember the number, she had been staring at it all week to the point where she had it memorized.

_Send._

Now came the agonizing wait…

* * *

Seifer opened the door after a single knock with a smile that almost looked relieved. Or maybe that was Quistis’ wishful thinking. That he was pleased to hear from her. Why else would he have given her his number, after all?

He was wearing a white, skin-tight tank top and a pair of loose grey sweat pants that hung low on his trim waist. _Very_ low. Quistis had to stop herself from picturing the shirt off, as she recalled just what he looked like the night in front of ‘Richard’s’.

He was also sporting a pair of glasses. There were some people who somehow became even more attractive when they had glasses on. It just _worked._ Quistis erroneously had never considered herself one of those people; glasses were simply a necessity for her, and, she felt, gave her an air of authority when she needed it. Seifer on the other hand, of course, _was_ one of those people. Damn him.

The wild urge Quistis had felt surged back to life at the sight of him, and her breath unwittingly hitched.

If he noticed, he made no sign of it.

“Hey.” He motioned for her to come inside. “Sorry, I have an exam next week, I’m in the middle of memorizing case-law. Turns out law school is basically a shit-ton of memorization.” Seifer gestured towards his study, where there were various open books and papers strewn about.

“Oh… I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Quistis immediately felt self-conscious. Memories of her dream were flooding back as she looked at him. How his hands would feel, his lips. 

_Get it together, Quistis. You’re here so that you can get yourself under control before the wedding!_

She knew she was lying to herself.

Seifer was watching her curiously, as if trying to read her mind. He shrugged. “I needed a break anyway. Nice shirt, by the way.”

It wasn’t said facetiously. Quite the opposite. It was said in a way that made the fire in the pit of Quistis’ stomach threaten to take over all reason. It was said in a way that sounded like Seifer wanted to see that shirt on the floor of his bedroom. 

She hadn’t actually planned her outfit this time around, instead just tugging on a pair of skinny jeans where the knees had holes from years of wear, black combat boots on top, and a t-shirt from a concert she went to at age fifteen. Before Garden completely took over her entire life. The last “fun” thing she did. A band she still enjoyed. The shirt was well-loved and faded, and it hung off her shoulder on one side, exposing the purple lace fabric of her bra-strap. It was her most favorite shirt she owned.

Surprising her, Seifer reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging her to his personal bathroom. The contact seared across her skin and she held her breath for a moment. Feeling his skin on hers, even a small amount, was making her head fuzzy. Being near him, instead of calming her nerves after her intense dream, was sending them into overdrive.

“You said you were stressed in your text. You want to use my bathtub, right?”

 _Stressed_ was the understatement of the year. She was bordering on unhinged. And apparently going crazy, because here she was in Seifer’s apartment. _Again_. To take a bath. For the third time in less than a month.

Since when had “bath” become a code for ”I’m trying to flirt with you.”? 

That realization hit Quistis like a ton of bricks. She _was_ trying to flirt with him. And failing miserably. 

The bath was already filled with bubbles, and the pleasant smell of rosewood drifted to her senses. 

“You want to join me?” Quistis said, immediately paling. Gods, that came out wrong.

Seifer arched an eyebrow. “Wow. Rather forward there, Trepe.”

Quistis nearly stamped a foot in frustration but pulled herself together. “No, I mean, after I get in. I can quiz you on your law if you want.”

Seifer looked suspicious for a moment before shrugging and nodding, disappearing into the rest of the apartment, giving Quistis the privacy she needed to undress and sink into the bathtub.

A few minutes later, he returned and handed Quistis a glass of red wine, much to her surprise, before sitting down with his back leaning against the tub, a large book on his lap. Quistis peeked over the edge of the bath so she could look at the book, a few drops of water dropping onto the pages. It caused Seifer to turn to look back at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“ _Vinzer Deling v. Galbadian Military_. Not as interesting as it looks, trust me. This is hardly leisure reading.” He sighed, rubbing the space between his eyes, before looking back at the pages.

“Tell me about it. It will help you study.”

Seifer paused, then shook his head, chuckling slightly. “Okay, but don’t blame me when you’re bored out of your mind. This is worse than listening to you lecture about proper enunciation in spell casting.”

He spent the next forty-five minutes telling her about the various cases he had to memorize for his exam, and what he thought about them. Of course, filled with choice colorful language. Quistis found the cadence of his voice pleasant, and it lulled her into deep relaxation, while she occasionally asked him questions about the various things he was studying. She had never felt so relaxed and easy in a conversation before, and her eyes drifted closed as she listened.

He seemed so… content. Yet, she was paralyzed at Garden. Being in the bathtub, listening to Seifer’s baritone just reinforced that. Quistis wanted some of that happiness. The closest she had been to it was the night she went dancing at ‘Richard’s’. She hadn’t cared what anyone thought about her. Not even Seifer. And, unless she was totally mistaken, Seifer had _liked_ seeing her that way.

Her eyes opened as she realized Seifer had changed the subject from tax law, to something personal.

“So… you know where I work now. You know I’m in school, but I don’t really know what you do. It looked to me like Richard’s was the most fun you’d had in ages. What do you do?”

Quistis blinked. “I work at Garden.”

“Yeah. No shit. I mean, for _fun._ What do you do?”

“I—”

“Hobbies?”

“…”

Seifer turned his head so he could see her out of the corner of his eye. “You can’t tell me your life is really only Garden. What would you _like_ to do, if you could do anything?”

Quistis frowned. The fact that she did nothing outside of work _was_ rather pathetic. But, there was one thing she had always been curious about, but always made lame excuses for not practicing. “I… I want to be a good baker. It’s methodical. I enjoy the process.”

A deep chuckle came from beside the bath and Quistis huffed, feeling embarrassed and ashamed for disclosing that tidbit. What a jerk! He had coaxed a secret out of her, just to make fun of her?

Seifer stopped laughing, seemingly sensing her frustration, but his tone was playful. “I’m picturing you in an apron. Quite a nice sight. If you want to bake, why don’t you just do it?”

Though her nerves were still a little rattled, she was relieved to find out that he hadn’t been mocking her. “What’s so funny about me in an apron?”

Quistis swore that the tips of Seifer’s ears got a little red. “Ah… you don’t want to know what else I’m picturing you wearing while you have it on,” he confessed quietly. “You might slap me if I say it out loud.” He turned around then to face her, his trademark cocky grin on his face.

“Seifer…” She leaned forward to the edge of the tub until her face was near his. Small droplets of water were dripping from her skin onto his brow.

“You got a little—” Reaching forward, Seifer gently brushed a fingertip along her cheek, wiping bubbles from her skin.

Quistis inhaled sharply at the contact, and unwittingly closed her eyes at the feel of his touch. It was surprisingly gentle, and his finger lingered on her cheek.

“Quistis…”

She could feel his breath near her mouth, centimeters away, but he was hesitating. If he would only just…

“If you want me to stop…” His voice was hoarse, and she could practically taste his breath. Her lips parted. Waiting, waiting.

Quistis shook her head with the smallest of nods. “Don’t sto—”

Her words were never finished as he crushed his lips to hers. The hand that was on her cheek went to the back of her neck, pressing their faces closer. His other hand was cradling her face, tilting her so that he could have better access to her lips. He was still being careful to keep her under the water, surprisingly gentlemanly.

She moaned as their lips finally met, hands reaching up to claw at the collars of his tank top, practically pulling him into the bath with her.

He tasted like caramel, and Quistis wanted more. His tongue pushed beyond her lips and she eagerly welcomed it, deepening their kiss.

Pulling him closer by the straps of his tank top, she tugged upwards, slowly raising her body from the bathtub. Seifer got the hint and pulled them both up to stand, Quistis reaching the same height as him from the elevation of the tub.

She pressed her entire body into him, the suds dripping off her form and soaking his shirt. He was all muscle, in all the right places, his large physique fully enveloping her small frame.

He pulled back a fraction with a satisfied grunt. “Shit, Quistis, you su—”

She didn’t reply, instead smashing their lips together again as she tangled her arms around his neck, practically melting her body into his, uncaring that she was naked. One of his hands snaked around her, resting on the small of her back to press her even further into him, if that was possible. She could feel his arousal pressed against her thigh and she whimpered slightly, before taking his bottom lip in her mouth and sucking on it, surprising herself.

He responded by pressing further into her, grinding slightly, but still keeping his hands in respectable places. Maintaining modesty despite the fact that they were making out in a bathroom and she was completely nude. It was clear he was holding back… Why was he holding back? Did he not--?

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

He pulled back, interspersing his words with small pecks, his voice rough. “Shit… work…” Seifer was panting, but kept her gaze, the hand by her face pushing hair away from her eyes. “I’m sorry, that’s my work ringtone… I have to--”

“I understand,” she managed.

And like that, his warmth was gone and she was left standing in the tub, hands touching her kiss-swollen lips. Her legs were shaking from more than the cold, and all she knew was that she wanted to be kissed like that again.

Who would have thought it could be so intense. Kissing had always been a means to an end for her. But with Seifer…

She could hear his irritated voice from the other room. Suddenly feeling very naked, chilly, and vulnerable, she grabbed a large towel to wrap around herself before cautiously walking into his bedroom.

“Right _now?”_

Seifer was pacing, his white tank soaked from where her body had been pressed against his. She could see every contour of his chest and stomach through the fabric clinging to his skin. The front of his sweatpants were also damp, an impressive bulge making the heat travel from her belly to in between her legs.

_Oh my…_

He caught her gaze, an almost sad look crossed his features. “Okay. I’ll be there.” 

Hanging up the phone, he tossed it on the bed before striding over to her purposefully. 

“I’m sorry,” Seifer murmured, before pulling her up by the chin for a chaste kiss. His hand lingered, before gently trailing down the side of her neck and tracing a line along her collar bone. He may as well have been branding her with that touch. “I have to go to work…” It was said with a kiss before he pulled back and rummaged through his dresser for something dry to wear.

He wasn’t facing her and Quistis could see by his shoulders that he was trying hard to even his breathing.

“Stay as long as you want. Just… text me when you leave so I can set the alarm remotely for the apartment.”

“Really?”

He pulled the wet shirt off his head before glancing over his shoulder. “Really. You’re here for a bath, you should finish it.”

The bath was _not_ what she wanted to finish.

She made no move to leave the bedroom, instead watching him as she clutched the towel tighter around her body.

“Fucking timing…” he muttered, tossing the shirt angrily on the floor. One last quick kiss and he was off her before she even had time to react, grabbing his fresh clothes and heading towards the living room.

Quistis was left shivering in his wake, wondering just what would have happened had he stayed.

Did she want it to go further? It was hard to deny the answer. She wanted the feeling he had ignited in her to be quenched by him. She _needed_ to feel that again. 

* * *

That night, after she got back to her dorm room in Garden, Quistis found a text message on her phone. A message with two simple words.

_Sweet Dreams._

Followed by a winking face.

Realizing that sleep was not going to come, she decided to go to the general-use kitchen of Garden. No one really used it, as people mostly ate in the cafeteria, so it was almost always empty, though they did keep the pantry stocked with basics.

She took out a bag of flour from the cupboard, and a glass jar packed with brown sugar. The butter in the fridge door was coated with crumbs, no doubt from some careless cadet slathering it on their toast, but if she sliced the top layer off, it would be usable. She inspected the eggs for cracks. They would do.

She set the mixing bowl down from the shelf, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, staring at the ingredients. Seifer was right, wasn't he? When did she ever do something for fun? For _herself?_

So Quistis baked.

When she finally went to sleep that night, she had a smile on her face.

* * *

Less than two weeks later, Quistis came to a decision. She and Seifer had been texting almost daily. Innocent things. Asking how his exam went. Her mentioning that she had baked some things. Him telling her a particularly funny story about a drunk patron at his job. A picture of his shirt covered in glitter after “a work incident”. A few mentions about the stress Rinoa was going through leading up to the wedding…

Never, though, did their messages contain anything flirtatious. Quistis almost wondered if the entire kiss in his apartment had been some bizarre fluke driven by her dream about him.

But every night, Seifer would still text her _Sweet dreams._ Always followed by a winking face.

After baking for a few hours every night, she had mastered the absolute perfect cookie. She had a day off, so, why not? The high-speed train to Deling City from Balamb took less than two hours.

Icebox tray in hand, Quistis went to Deling City with the intent of giving Seifer some cookies as a ‘thank you’ for the times she had used his bath.

And maybe, just maybe, she could use it again while she was there delivering the cookies. And more importantly, she might be able to get some answers.

She was about to knock on his door when it opened in front of her. Seifer had a confused, momentarily panicked look when he saw her.

“Oh… Quistis?”

He was dressed in a tight button-down shirt covered by a smart leather jacket and snug ripped jeans, and was stuffing his wallet in his front pocket. Obviously about to leave for somewhere.

“I—” Quistis shyly held up the box of cookies. “These are a thank-you. For, the bath.”

Seifer reached out and grabbed the box, peeking inside the lid with a small smile. “You brought me cookies? Thanks.” He stepped inside and placed the dish on the small table by his entryway, before coming back out to the hallway. 

It was clear to Quistis that she wasn’t going to be invited inside. “I should have texted you… you’re obviously busy.” 

He looked good. And hurried. And… effortlessly charming.

“Yeah, I’m late for… a _thing_.”

A thing?

He obviously wasn’t going to invite her to whatever the “thing” was, and also wasn’t going to offer up any more information.

Was he going on a date?

She cringed at the realization. Bahamut’s Roar, he was clearly going on a date. How could she have been so stupid? So pitiful.

“Uh… next week. The wedding. I’ll see you there, right?” Seifer offered awkwardly.

Quistis nodded mutely as he locked the door, before dashing down the hallway and taking the stairwell. He hollered a half-hearted apology and a goodbye on his way out.

She felt like an idiot. She _was_ an idiot. 

According to Rinoa, Seifer had a reputation as a bit of a player. He had an impressive rotation of admirers and paramours. And here Quistis was, baking that asshole cookies? Like some pathetic fan-girl? Thinking they had something special? Just how many other girls had been in that bathtub of his? 

She thought their kiss had meant something. Apparently, not. He had been texting her all week, while planning a date with some other floozy.

Dejected, Quistis made her way back to the train station, to return to Balamb, determined to get Seifer out of her head.

She would see him at the wedding all right, and would have the chance to make it clear that all his attentions to meant _nothing_ to her. Absolutely nothing. Sure, she may have briefly fallen for his little act, but it was momentary lust and nothing more. And that ship had now sailed as she was woefully reminded of the fact, that deep down, Seifer Almasy was still just as much of an asshole as ever.

Damn him.

* * *

Zell’s waving arm directed Seifer to the stool that was reserved for him. “Dude, you’re late! The game started already.”

“I know, I know… I’m sorry.” Seifer offered the apology without much substance behind it, sat down and accepted his standard micro-brew from the bartender. 

Eying him up and down carefully, Zell smirked. “What, you have a girl over? You look awfully happy.”

Seifer couldn’t help but grin, though he tried to cover it with his beer glass. He was happy. And shocked. Quistis had baked him cookies. He felt like an ass for running out on her like that, but he and Zell had plans, and even if Zell was an annoying idiot, Seifer wasn’t _so_ much of an asshole that he would cancel last minute.

And there was _no_ way he was going to miss the final match in the Dollet Cup.

Maybe he should have mentioned that to Quistis, now that he thought about it. But, he really didn’t feel like explaining that he was hanging out with Zell Dincht of all people. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

“Something like that,” Seifer mumbled, taking a sip of his beer and gluing his eyes to the television screen.

“So… what are we going to tell everyone at the wedding, dude?”

“What are you going on about, Wuss?”

Zell absently tore at the label on his beer, tearing it into smaller and smaller pieces. “About us. Like, what are we going to say to everyone?”

“We aren’t a damn couple, Chicken-wuss. We’re not debuting something. We don’t need to say anything.”

“But, we’re friends now. And hang out.”

“We are _not_ friends. We happen to watch sporting events at the same time. I hardly see how that’s going to come up at the wedding.” Seifer rolled his eyes.

Zell huffed silently, likely counting in his head so as not to yell. “You’re such an asshole sometimes, dude.”

“I know, Dincht. I know.”

Zell leaned over the bar and expertly tossed his now empty beer bottle into the recycling bin. The bartender had a new one in his hand before he even leaned back into his seat. “So… who’s the chick?”

Seifer didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t stop the small smile that took root on his face.

“Damn. You must really _actually_ like this one.”

He did. Dammit it all, he did. It actually surprised him, even though it shouldn’t have. He had always found her physically attractive; anyone with a pulse found her beautiful. But seeing her act so free at Richard’s had sparked an itching curiosity. He _wanted_ to make her happy. Without any ulterior motive, either.

He hoped it was mutual. Her kissing him was a good sign. He was extremely relieved that she hadn’t gone radio-silent after their kiss. Hopefully he hadn’t left the wrong impression with her that day. It was not how he wanted things to go down, and he was secretly thankful that their kiss had been interrupted. 

Quistis Trepe was not a one-and-done type of woman, she was a class act. He should be taking her to dinner, or _something._ Seifer hadn’t taken a woman on a date since Rinoa, and that was buying her an ice cream cone. _Once._ He never had to put in that much effort with girls to get what he desired.

But, Quistis was the type of woman who deserved to be cherished. To be worshiped. And he hoped he was lucky enough to have the opportunity to worship every inch of her.

Seifer had never been excited to see Squall in his entire life, but found himself looking forward immensely to Commander FuckBoy’s wedding.

“Shut up, Chicken-wuss. Let’s just watch the damn game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **colobonema** for beta-ing this, and holding my hand through all my doubts on this chapter :) And for putting up with my refusal to add "Quistis" to my spell check ;)


	5. The One With the Wedding

**Stuck in Second Gear**

**Chapter 5**

**The One With the Wedding**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

It turned out that it wasn’t all that hard to avoid Seifer at Rinoa and Squall’s wedding, that is, until well into the reception. Quistis’ job as Maid-of-Honor kept her busy. Rinoa’s uncle from the Heartilly side was staunchly anti-military, and she had been instructed _please, Quisty, please, don’t let him get near Daddy or Squall,_ by a begging and ever-apologetic Rinoa. She also was tasked with ensuring Rinoa’s dress was always proper, delivering a speech, and showing up whenever Laguna started talking to Squall in case those conversations needed a tactful intervention.

The wedding itself was lovely and… extremely grand. In Trabia of all places. Why they were getting married in Trabia, no one was really sure. Apparently, it was a compromise between Laguna and Fury Caraway. Galbadia and Esthar were out, as Caraway would never agree to Esthar, and Laguna wouldn’t agree to Galbadia, unless it was in Winhill, which, if both been were being brutally honest, was a dump. Neither man agreed on Balamb, as that was “Cid’s turf”, and so Trabia or Centra it was. And Centra was a giant desert. 

So, Rinoa walked down the aisle, outside in the snow, the furs of a mountain leopard keeping her warm as a ten-piece orchestra played her mother’s music. Squall was dressed smartly in his dress uniform, and Quistis swore his eyes were actually glistening as Rinoa marched purposefully towards him.

Had Squall and Rinoa been allowed their druthers, they would have married in the flower field in Centra with just a few friends. What only Quistis and Zell knew, was that Rinoa and Squall had secretly done just that. Zell had become ordained online and performed the ceremony, while Quistis acted as the witness about a month ago. They didn’t trust Selphie to not spill the beans, so she was sadly not included. Zell was about seventy-five percent sure the marriage was legal and official, but in any case, the one in Trabia would fix it, if it wasn’t.

The reception was, thankfully, held inside, so Quistis could shed her own furs. Rinoa had been wise in insisting on choosing both her own dress and the bridesmaids’ gowns. Rinoa had her mother’s dress altered, lace sleeves added to deal with the cold climate, as well as adding the stole. Laguna had kindly given her a necklace that once belonged to Raine, which she wore proudly.

The bridesmaids all wore black instead of blue, much to Quistis’ surprise. But the whole wedding was a front-page black-tie affair. Each dress was a little different, accenting the wearer’s features. 

Quistis herself had a black flowing dress with an extremely daring halter neckline. It was backless and tied around her neck, the material dipping almost indecently before flaring out into a flowing wispy skirt. She was rather hesitant about wearing it, but Rinoa assured her she looked amazing. As had Selphie. She paired it with sparkling heels, her hair pulled in an effortless chiffon, and dangling crystal earrings.

Selphie wore an off-the-shoulder long sleeve black dress, with a slit that seemed a lot higher than the manufacturer intended. Irvine certainly seemed to appreciate it, and Quistis had to remind him no less than three times that they were in public, and for Irvine to stop sticking his hand up her dress.

There were a few more bridesmaids. Cousins of Rinoa, and Ellone, of course. One of them, a tall, leggy girl in her early twenties who clearly had both time and money to spend on her body, was donning a strapless body-hugging dress held up by huge fake breasts. Yet, they were tastefully done, Quistis hated to admit. Juiced-up lips, long cascading platinum blonde waves that went nearly to her waist. Perfect make-up. Thousands of gils’ worth of jewelry, and designer heels. Quistis could _never_ look like that. It took a team of estheticians, designers, surgeons, personal trainers, spas, and _time_ to look like that. And _that_ was currently cozying up to one Seifer Almasy.

She was shamelessly pressing her breasts onto his chest as she “leaned in” to hear what he was saying. Followed by giggling sweetly at whatever joke he had apparently made, as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Seifer had his trademark cocky grin plastered to his face while he seemingly flirted with her, though he was keeping his hands firmly to himself. From what Quistis could see from across the room anyway. One hand was jammed into his pocket, and the other was leaning on the bar, holding a glass of amber liquid.

He was probably going to take the girl back to his hotel room at this rate. The stupid jerk. Which is what everyone did at weddings, according to Zell, who heard it from a mysterious friend he wouldn’t name.

Whatever. He could do whatever he wanted. 

What Quistis _didn’t_ notice, was poor Nida, trying not to cry into his glass as he watched her, debating whether or not to ask her to dance.

Her thoughts were distracted by Zell grabbing her and dragging her to the dance floor to join Rinoa and an extremely embarrassed Squall (though he had the smallest of smiles on his face). A lively dance with an enthusiastic and surprisingly graceful Zell would cheer even the most depressed person up, and Quistis’ spirits were immediately lifted. It was a formal dance, the kind she’d practiced at Garden for their SeeD balls; quite different than the dancing she had done at the bar a few weeks ago, but still enjoyable.

Her dress was even more stunning when it moved, the skirts flowing around her elegantly as she twirled and twirled, dance after dance. She knew she would tire long before Zell, but she was determined to keep up with him for as long as she could.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Seifer, who had his eyes glued on her. The smoldering look in his eyes was downright predatory, and he raised his glass in her direction, a smirk on his face, just as he had at the bar those weeks ago. Rinoa’s cousin was still plastered to his side, playing with the lapel of his tuxedo jacket, but he still wasn’t touching her, or even speaking to her. He wasn’t even _looking_ at her. Quistis wondered just how long Seifer had been watching her dance.

What the hell was he trying to pull here? He was just trying to make her get upset. Surely. He knew he was bugging her and he _liked_ it. 

_“We were on a break!”_

The shout jolted Quistis out of her thoughts and brought her dancing to a halt. When she caught Rinoa’s eyes, the bride gave Quistis a pleading look. Quistis sighed deeply, knowing she was back on maid-of-honor duty.

There was only one person who would have shouted that particular phrase, and Quistis excused herself from Zell’s arms to go track down the most on-again-off-again couple she knew: Selphie and Irvine.

The argument had been going on for _years._ Whether or not Irvine had cheated on Selphie when he had a drunken one-night-stand with some girl in Dollet, during one of their “off-agains”. And whenever it resurfaced, it would result in Irvine and Selphie separating. _Again_.

She found them easily enough, and grabbed both of them by the elbow, steering them out of the ballroom where people were starting to notice the bickering pair. Down the hallway, far away, there were dressing rooms. She shoved them inside one of the empty rooms, and nearly slammed the door behind herself, cutting off both their voices.

“Quistis, tell Selphie it wasn’t cheating if we were on a bre—”

“Quisty, tell Irvine that we _weren’t_ broken up, so it is che—”

Quistis leaned her forehead against the door with a deep sigh. “None of us are going to talk to you about this. You are at a _wedding_. Please. And if you upset Rinoa, Squall _will_ kill you. So just remember that.”

 _Hyne, help me,_ she thought. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Being at the wedding reminded Seifer of exactly _why_ he was dreading this event so much. Every single person from Garden was glaring at him like he was public enemy number one. Which to them, he _was_ , official pardon or not. At least, to the ones that were around in the Second Sorceress War, who remembered what he had done with Galbadia Garden, and to Trabia. His reputation was hardly any better with the newer SeeDs either, who were constantly reminded of his past actions by the old guard.

The fact that he was in the top 3% of his class in law school didn’t matter to them. The fact that he now spent his time helping victims of crime didn’t matter to them. The possession didn’t matter to them. He was unredeemable in their eyes. Though, truth be told, while his actions were mostly not his own back then, a lot of it a fog, he _had_ made decisions, especially early on. His hands were far from clean, and he knew he bore the guilt of what happened. Seifer wanted so badly to be the hero. But, it was a freaking war, and he’d been convinced he was on the right side of history. 

Fury Caraway, and, unbelievably, Laguna Loire, had done a good job with marketing the matter of his and Rinoa’s possession to the general public. Making them sympathetic victims, rather than perpetrators that caused mass casualty. He knew neither of them had done that for his sake, of course. It was all for Rinoa. And Seifer had reaped the benefit. Even so, all that publicity hadn’t done shit for his reputation at Garden. Nor for Rinoa’s, thanks to Cid Kramer.

It was the only reason Seifer was even at the wedding. He kept reminding himself of that. _You’re doing this for Rinoa._ Because, in the seven years since the whole mess, he really _had_ become less of an asshole. And Rinoa had somehow, much to Squall’s chagrin, and eventual acceptance, become a good friend. She was the only one who understood what he had been through. And he was the only one that understood her. It was those meetings with Rinoa over the years that had managed to lift away some of the fog.

As if sensing his irritation, Rinoa manifested in front of him, dragging him onto the dancefloor to lead her in some slower-paced dance. She shot a daring look to any of the Garden people at _her_ wedding who might be thinking of giving them dirty looks. It did manage to cheer him up a little.

He was equally impressed by her brazenness and her naïveté. That foolish hopefulness for the future she had possessed back in Timber was still alive and well. It was what Seifer both liked and disliked in her. She still didn’t live in reality. He may have been public enemy number one to Garden, but she was _certainly_ public enemy number two. They hated Rinoa _almost_ as much as they hated Seifer. 

He didn’t understand how she could marry the Commander of Garden. The organization that literally opposed her entire existence. At least Commander Bitebug Balls had the common decency to buy his new wife a house in Balamb rather than live in the poison swamp of awfulness that was Garden and Cid Kramer. Who was conspicuously absent from the wedding, interestingly enough.

Squall loved Rinoa. Seifer could give credit where credit was due. Squall was hopelessly in love with her, and would die before he saw a hand raised against her. He was a good Knight and would be a good husband, even if he sucked as a person. Rinoa loved him too, for whatever reason, probably because he was a shit-substitute for Seifer, who viewed Rinoa more as an annoying little sister than anything romantic.

Dance done, Seifer’s mood was soured once again when he caught sight of Quistis. He couldn’t be certain, but it seemed like she had been actively avoiding him the entire evening. When he did catch her gaze, she was shooting daggers at him, and looked like she was ready to unleash some holy hell of Blue Magic on his ass. What had crawled up her butt? Was she jealous of Squall and Rinoa?

That idea left a bitter taste in his mouth which he tried to wash out with a swig of Timber Bourbon. 

* * *

The arguing voices of Irvine and Selphie died down inside the dressing room, and Quistis felt it was safe to leave. As she was making her way down the hall, back into the ballroom, she suddenly lurched sideways.

Strong arms grabbed her by her forearms and slammed her into the wall of another one of the small changing rooms. A quick boot to the door shut it behind her to prevent escape.

The push wasn’t gentle, and it took some of the air out of Quistis lungs. Her SeeD instincts kicking in, she began to kick and thrash, only to have a hard body press her further into the wall, arms pinning her flat.

“Stop fighting, I’m not going to hurt you.”

As her vision adjusted to the darkness of the room, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight coming in through the window, she was met with a pair of emerald eyes staring at her.

“Dammit, Seifer. You scared me half to death. What the hell do you want?”

Seifer’s grip loosened and his eyes widened in surprise at her language choice. Quistis never even used words like ‘hell’.

“I’m wondering what the hell your problem is.”

Quistis turned her face to the side to avoid his gaze, and crossed her arms in front of herself protectively, also creating more room between the two of them. 

“I have work to do at this wedding, Seifer. Leave me alone.” Her voice was icy.

Seifer stepped back, crossing his arms as well, and Quistis couldn’t help but peek at him out of the corner of her eye. Seeing him up close, she was well aware of the effort he had put into his appearance. His hair was neatly done, his face clean-shaven, his tux perfectly tailored, with the contour of his chiseled chest on display, and the smell of a musky cologne assailed her senses. He stepped back, but kept the door blocked, clearly intent on an answer.

“We kiss. You bring me fucking _cookies_. Then you go completely AWOL, ignore my texts, and the next time I see you, you keep glaring at me like you want to rip my throat out,” he said, jabbing his fingers towards her as if ticking items off a list. “I don’t like my head being messed with, Quistis. I thought _you_ of all people would be smart enough to figure that out. It’s kind of a personal issue for me”

Quistis harrumphed. He was one to talk about preying on people’s emotions. “Kind of hypocritical for _you_ to be talking about messing with people’s heads, Seifer. Don’t you have to go sleep with Chantelle or something?”

“Sleep with _who?_ What are you talking about?”

She finally turned to look at him, and was caught off guard by the fact that he looked completely flabbergasted at her accusations. 

“Chantelle? Rinoa’s cousin? The girl that has been hanging all over you for the last hour?”

Seifer barked out a dismissive laugh. “Her? You have _got_ to be kidding. Ah… oh, I see. You’re jealous.” 

“ _Jealous?_ Of a human floatation device? Don’t be absurd.”

His voice changed, confusion morphing to something else that Quistis couldn’t identify, and he took a step closer to her. “I only have eyes for one person at this wedding, Quistis. I kind of thought that was obvious.”

Quistis’ arms inadvertently tightened around her chest, and a betraying shiver ran down her spine at his statement. “I don’t like having my head messed with either, Seifer.” She spat out his name like it was venom.

He stepped even closer, his chest now brushing against her crossed arms. “How, _exactly_ , have I messed with your head, Instructor? I think I’ve been pretty damn nice.”

Was he really going to drag this out? Fine. She would show him. “ _You_ may hook-up with lots of people at the same time. But, I don’t. Whatever the other day was, it was clearly nothing. Now, please let me out.”

Seifer growled in frustration. His hands came to her upper arms, squeezing slightly, though not enough to hurt her. “What the actual _fuck_ are you talking about? I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since… What the hell did I do?”

She closed the distance between them, until their faces were nearly touching, her voice laced with disdain. “I came to your place, and you blew me off for some girl.”

He had embarrassed her. That was the crux of it. And Quistis was already feeling like garbage. He must have realized that by now. Seifer wasn’t so much of an ass to be unaware that embarrassment was one of the most mortifying emotions one could have. Especially in a romantic situation.

Seifer nearly stumbled back at her words, leaning heavily against the door of the small room they were occupying. 

“A girl…?” 

He looked genuinely confused, until a look of dawning came over him and he actually _laughed._

Fury rose through Quistis, adding insult to her already severely injured ego. He thought her emotions were _funny?_ That _asshole!_ She charged forward, trying to move his large body away from the door so she could leave. She knew it would be to no avail, given his size, and briefly considered screaming.

Realizing that would cause a ruckus, she instead stamped the heel of one of her stilettos into the top of Seifer’s shoe. It was enough to catch him off guard, and she threw him out of the way to triumphantly march out of the room he had trapped her in, leaving a cursing Seifer behind.

* * *

Damn Trepe. She’d got it all wrong.

Seifer really _hadn’t_ been trying to make Quistis jealous with Rinoa’s cousin, Whats-her-face. The girl had latched onto him the second he stepped into the reception, and he hadn’t been able to get rid of her. He hadn’t even been paying attention to a thing she said. She smelled rich, like she was going to be on one of those _Real Housewives of Deling City_ shows in a few years getting needles stuck in her face. No thanks.

He was going to have to pawn her off on someone else though if he was going to get to Quistis and set the record straight.

And he had the perfect victim. The moron who’d caused Quistis to have all this unfounded jealousy in the first place. Feisty Quistis had Seifer’s blood going south, and he wanted to tame that temper of hers in all the right ways.

He couldn’t help but be a little pleased that she was jealous. Jealousy meant she cared. Even if she was jealous of Chicken-wuss of all people. Thinking he was some girl Seifer was running off on a date with. 

Seifer inadvertently shivered uncomfortably at the thought of dating Zell. And tried not to vomit.

“Fucking _Dincht._ Manages to ruin things without even trying. Sweet Hyne,” he muttered to himself before leaving the room and re-entering the fray that was Squall and Rinoa’s wedding reception.

Whats-her-face was on him in seconds, and he quickly spotted Zell by the large table of food, stuffing cocktail wieners in his mouth. Seifer rolled his eyes, and guided the busty blonde in that direction under the guise of wanting food. He all but shoved the girl into Zell’s arms.

“This is Chicken-wuss, he’s an undefeated boxer and about to go to the World Games in T-board. Chicken-wuss, this is Rinoa’s cousin, um… _something._ ”

Rinoa’s cousin was a good fifteen centimeters taller than Zell, with the aid of her towering heels. She looked down at him and her expression morphed into a sultry pout. “Hi… I’m Chantelle. Nice to meet you, Chicken-wuss.”

“Uh… my name is Zell, actually.”

“Mmm, that’s a nice name.” With that, she leaned down and whispered something in Zell’s ear that caused his entire face to go dark red.

Deed done, Seifer went off to search for Quistis. He found her speaking to some Galbadian dignitary about something probably extremely boring.

“‘Scuse me,” Seifer mumbled to the dignitary, and grabbed Quistis by the elbow before she had the sense to protest. He dragged her onto the dance floor, pulling her into the waltz that the Trabian string quartet was playing.

Hyne, sometimes he even amazed himself at his brilliance. There was no way she was going to make a scene on the dance floor. She’d be forced to talk to him through the rest of this dance, buying him about two and a half minutes. Perfect.

He could practically smell the fury radiating off Quistis as she glared at him, and of course, in true Quistis fashion, attempted to lead the dance.

“For the love of…” Seifer grabbed her hand a little tighter and pulled her closer to his body. “Let me lead, Quistis, you’re making this impossible!”

“Good,” she said, turning her nose up and away from him, though she did stop fighting him so much on the dancing. “What do you think you’re trying to pull here?”

Gods, this woman drove him nuts sometimes. She was so damn infuriating. It totally did it for him. _This_ Quistis he understood. This was the Quistis with passion, the passion he had finally seen when she had danced at the club, lurking just below her perfectly coifed and controlled surface. The Quistis that had kissed him in his bathtub. The _real_ Quistis. Not the robotically perfect prodigy of Garden.

“I was meeting Chicken-wuss. The day you came.” He kept his voice low.

“ _Zell?”_

That was enough to catch her off guard and she stopped trying to lead completely, making their dancing flow more easily.

Seifer took the opportunity to pull her a little closer, their bodies now touching as they continued the dance.

“You’re jealous of Chicken-wuss. The ‘girl’ you think I went to see? Gods, this is so freaking embarrassing… I can’t even say it out loud.”

“You’re dating Zell?!”

Their waltz stuttered and froze for a chaotic moment, but Seifer quickly recovered and pulled Quistis back into step.

“What?! _That’s_ where you went with that?”

A small smile crossed her features and Seifer felt a wave of relief. 

“You and… Zell? Hang out?”

“Don’t tell anyone. My status would be ruined. But, yeah. We _sometimes_ watch sports in the same area. That’s it. It was too late to call him and cancel when you showed up. You can ask him if you want.”

He could see her internally debating whether or not to do just that. “Did you mean what you said? About…me?”

Seifer deliberated answering. A big part of him wanted to deny it, to keep his cards closer to his chest. But, Quistis was clearly just as insecure about whatever was happening between them as he was. Hell, she was insecure about herself, period. For whatever insane reason. The woman had a real-life fan club. There was no point in denying it, why hurt her? He found he really didn’t want to. 

“Well. Yeah. I can’t seem to get you out of my head.”

“Me neither.” She admitted quietly, and Seifer grinned when she flushed prettily.

He had never wanted to kiss anyone so much in his entire life. He wanted to feel her soft lips again, taste her. Unfortunately, they were smack dab in the middle of the dance floor at Rinoa and Squall’s wedding. And as far as all these guests knew, (including the newlyweds themselves), they were nothing more than old acquaintances, at _best_.

“Dammit… is there anywhere private around here?”

“Balcony. Five minutes.” She was gone in a flash of golden hair and black dress before he knew it, the waltz having ended.

Seifer strode off the dance floor and pretended to eye the food spread while he waited. Five minutes seemed like an eternity. Zell was still there with Whats-her-face. He was now nearly turning purple with whatever filth she was whispering in his ear, and she had seemingly glued her body to his. Poor Zell was still as a statue, completely unsure how to react. Zell was used to ignoring female attention, mostly due to his complete obliviousness, but this woman was downright brazen.

Seifer had underestimated her. He assumed she was a trust fund kid, looking for another trust fund first husband. Instead, she was clearly a man-eater who was trying to make daddy upset. And a stage-five-clinger with crazy eyes, for sure. Zell was in _way_ over his head. Well, it made for good entertainment at least. And maybe Zell could burn off some of his annoying energy on her. And finally stop talking about that stupid girl in the library who dumped his sorry ass, doing him a massive favor. She was about as interesting as watching paint dry.

Why was he even thinking about this? He could not give two shits what happened to the Chicken-wuss and Whats-her-face. 

He had an appointment to keep.

Quistis was waiting for him on the balcony, shivering madly. She apparently hadn’t bothered grabbing her fur stole, and Seifer kicked himself inwardly. He should have been there first. Instead here he was, making her wait in the freezing cold for him.

He quickly tugged off his tux jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, in a truly gentlemanly flourish, rubbing his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up a little.

“So…” He trailed off, his mind blank.

Seifer had never felt hesitation or lacked hubris in his entire life, but he found himself, at the moment, rendered speechless.

Quistis broke the silence. “Did you tell Zell about me?”

Oh, so that was it. She was worried her dirty little secret was out. Was she ashamed of going to his apartment? Because of who he was? Emphasis on _was._ He had grown up a lot. The whole thing of narrowly escaping a lifetime in D-District Prison had helped, certainly. Damn. He needed to be sure to give Rinoa huge hug today.

“Nope. No one knows you were in my bathtub.” He said it with more anger than he intended.

Quistis’ eyes narrowed for a second, before a look of understanding crossed her face. “Seifer, I… I just want to figure out what we’re doing before anyone interferes.”

“You mean before they talk you out of it.” He pulled his hands from her arms and stuffed them in his pockets, looking away from her purposefully, shivering slightly in the cold air now that he no longer had his jacket.

Quistis didn’t respond.

He knew how Garden saw him. Zell and Rinoa were the exception, though neither of them were really part of Garden, not officially anyway. In his new life, no one looked at him that way. They were in awe of the reformed bad-boy, the _new Seifer._ Once word got out, thanks to Ginger, that he was invited to ‘ _The Wedding of the Century’_ as it was headlined in a bunch of those dopey magazines, he had every girl from law school begging him to be his plus-one.

He’d chosen to go stag, for one purpose. And that purpose was standing in front of him, basically admitting she was embarrassed that she spent time with him. Then what the fuck were the cookies about?

Seifer shrugged, and attempted to show that he didn’t really care. 

“This is all suddenly seeming like a lot of work. So, maybe next time you want to use a bath, find someone else. Hell, Fu and Rai live on the tenth floor of my building, knock on their door.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, Quistis actually looked hurt. _Good,_ the bitter part of his brain told him. 

Quistis tugged his jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Seifer, it’s not the bath.”

“Yeah. No shit. It’s you.”

Hostility and anger had now taken over any compassionate part of his brain. And if there was one thing Seifer knew, it was how to find the right words to hurt the right person.

She looked like she was shrinking underneath the size of his jacket and Seifer could see the damage was done. 

“Why are you acting like this?” Quistis asked quietly

She turned to pretend to look out at the vast snowy nothingness beyond the balcony, so he couldn’t see her face.

So, she expected him to act differently? Did that mean… she thought better of him as well?

“I was going to ask you to dinner, you know.”

She became completely still, and Seifer saw her take a shaky breath and hold it.

With a deep breath of his own, Seifer made a decision. He knew that if he didn’t do the right thing now, any chance with Quistis would be out the window. Time to swallow his pride, just a little.

“I… I was going to ask you to dinner,” he repeated, reaching forward to cautiously put a hand on her shoulder. “Here. But, if you’re embarrassed—” Saying that word out loud _hurt._ More than he cared to admit.

She surprised him then, and reached up to grab his hand. “Like a date?”

Seifer didn’t respond.

“Seifer, I’m not embarrassed. I just… I want to keep this this between _just_ us. For now. I… I thought if other people got involved it would…”

_Disappear._

“Be different?” He thought he understood. It was like they had a secret world between the two of them, and the idea of sneaking around behind Garden folks’ back did feel a bit like a thrill. They could figure out whatever the hell they were doing, before going to the bother of figuring out how to tell people. There might be nothing to tell in the end, anyway.

Quistis nod was so slight, it was almost indistinguishable. “Yes. I didn’t want it taken away. Talking to you has been… it’s surprised me.”

“In a good way?” He asked, though he knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it.

She turned around and faced him. “Will you still take me to dinner?”

“Fuck yeah.” 

Grabbing the sides of her face, he pulled her up to his lips for a kiss. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck, his jacket falling to the snow. His hands snaked around her and splayed against her bare back, as he marveled at the softness of her skin, the tight muscles discernable underneath.

One hand dared to rest on her hip, dipping lower unless she stopped him, which she didn’t. The other traveled higher along her back until he was toying with the halter tie of her dress.

She actually _moaned_ into the kiss, and Seifer thought he might just die on the spot. 

His kisses moved down her cheek, to the shell of her ear where he nibbled, eliciting a gasp. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, you look downright sinful in that dress.”

She stiffened, and for a moment Seifer was afraid he had gone too far. Especially after he had told himself he was going to be a gentleman with her. 

Then her cold cheek pressed against his and he felt her hot breath on his ear, causing a shiver to run through his entire body.

“Fifteen,” she whispered.

“Fifteen?”

“My room in the lodge.”

And with that, she bent down daintily to grab his jacket, handed it to him, and disappeared back into the ballroom.

What god had blessed him with this information, he had no idea. Maybe it was the wedding, the wine, the romantic setting, the emotions milling around; people did crazy things at weddings all the time.

All Seifer knew was, he was done for. And after tasting the delicious messy perfection that was Quistis Trepe, there was no way he could go back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my beta, **colobonema**. :) I promise Nida will end up happy, just for you.


End file.
